THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


FROM  THE  LIBRARY  OF 
ERNEST  CARROLL  MOORE 


Sources  of  Faith  and  Hope 


A  Study  of  the  Soul 


BY 


HERBERT   H.   MOTT 


BOSTON 

AMERICAN  UNITARIAN  ASSOCIATION 
25  BEACON    STREET 


Copyright,    1916,    by 
AMERICAN  UNITARIAN  ASSOCIATION 


All  rights  reserved 


5T 


To 
MARY    E.    HUNT 

and 
ELIZABETH    R.     BROWN 

This  book  is  gratefully  inscribed 


1545979 


FOREWORD 


"THE  most  effective  and  certain  deliverance  of  men 
from  their  self  inflicted  calamities,  and  from  the  most 
dreadful  of  all  calamities,  war,  is  attainable  not  by 
any  external  general  measures,  but  by  that  simple 
appeal  to  the  consciousness  of  each  separate  individ- 
ual, proposed  by  Jesus  nineteen  hundred  years  ago, 
that  every  man  bethink  himself,  and  ask  himself  who 
he  is,  why  he  lives,  and  what  he  should  and  should 
not  do." 

TOLSTOY. 


CONTENTS 


Chapter 

1.  THE  SOUL 


2.  THE  SOUL  AND  THE  BODY  ......  6 

3.  THE  SOUL  AND  THE  WORLD   .  .   .   .   .  17 

4.  THE  POWER  BEHIND  THE  SOUL  AND  THE  WORLD  23 

5.  SOUL  AND  OVERSOUL 64 

6.  THE  CONDUCT  OF  THE  SOUL 81 

I.  The  Soul's  Quest. 

II.  The  Soul's  Dilemma. 

III.  The  Easier  Way. 

IV.  Practical  Consequences. 

7.  THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  94 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  SOUL 

A  BRAHMIN,  seated  by  the  sacred  waters  of  the 
Ganges,  called  to  his  disciple.  ''Bring  me  fruit  from 
yonder  tree."  The  disciple  obeyed. 

"Cut  it  in  two,  what  do  you  find?" 

"Some  small  seeds,  O  Master." 

"Break  open  one  of  them,  what  is  there?" 

"Nothing,"  replied  the  youth. 

"Where  you  see  nothing,"  said  the  Brahmin, 
"there  dwells  a  mighty  tree." 

As  within  the  seed  dwells  the  tree,  so,  within  my 
body  dwells  a  consciousness,  a  self,  an  "I".  This  is 
no  delusion,  no  fancy.  While  I  keep  my  reason,  I 
am  unable,  even  if  I  would,  to  doubt  this  feeling  of 
selfhood.  Of  its  actuality  there  is  no  question. 
Every  one  is  aware  of  it. 

Here  then,  is  something  that  cannot  be  otherwise, 
a  fragment  of  reality,  of  truth,  on  which  we  may 
plant  firmly  our  feet.  This  selfhood,  this  "I",  is 
what  we  mean  by  the  soul. 

Since  it  is  neither  to  be  seen,  touched,  weighed, 
nor  measured,  how  can  we  know  anything  about  the 


2  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

soul?  I  know  of  it  whatsoever  I  know  of  myself,  for 
my  soul  is  myself.  About  myself,  there  are  some 
things  which  I  know  at  first  hand.  The  knowledge  is 
not  of  my  seeking,  but  is  given  to  me,  and  is  con- 
firmed, corroborated,  and  made  clearer,  by  experience. 

I  know  of  myself,  and  therefore  of  my  soul,  that 
I  am  alive.  "What  shall  we  do  with  you  when  you 
are  dead?"  asked  the  friends  of  Socrates  just  before 
the  hemlock  was  handed  to  him.  His  answer  was, 
"Anything  you  like,  provided  you  can  catch  me." 

When  a  man  dies,  something  escapes.  The  body 
lies  inert  and  motionless.  Speak  to  it,  there  is  no 
answer.  Touch  it,  there  is  no  response.  That  which 
was  alive,  is  gone.  Never  in  the  history  of  the  race 
has  a  human  body  been  known  to  retain  its  life  after 
it  had  lost  its  soul.  The  soul  is  a  principal  and  power 
of  life. 

I  know  of  myself,  and  therefore  of  my  soul,  that  I 
think,  feel,  act.  The  body  which  loses  its  soul,  loses, 
together  with  its  life,  its  power  to  think,  feel,  act. 

Through  nave  and  transept,  and  along  the  vaulted 
roof  of  the  cathedral,  the  organ  music  rolls.  Pipes, 
keys,  stops,  pedals,  are  all  at  work,  yet  they  are  no 
musicians.  They  are  mute  and  dead.  By  them- 
selves, they  can  do  nothing.  They  are  merely  ma- 
chinery. It  is  the  organist  who  makes  the  music,  it 
is  he  who  thinks,  feels,  acts,  and  by  means  of  the 
mechanism  of  his  organ  conveys  his  thoughts,  feel- 
ings, acts,  to  the  listening  congregation. 
t^What  the  organist  is  to  the  organ,  the  soul  is  to 
the  body.  Of  itself,  the  body  can  do  nothing.  It  is 
no  more  than  a  beautiful  piece  of  mechanism.  The 
thinker,  feeler,  doer,  is  the  mind,  the  living  person, 
the  soul. 

I  know  of  myself,  and  therefore  of  my  soul,  that 


THE  SOUL  3 

through  all  bodily  changes  I  continue,  and  remain  at 
heart  unchanged. 

I  feel  as  if  I  existed  continuously.  As  far  back  as 
memory  goes  I  had  this  feeling.  I  cannot  recollect 
all  the  way  back.  I  existed  before  I  remember  that  I 
existed.  Of  this  unremembered  existence  I  learn 
through  the  memory  of  other  people. 

At  the  beginning  of  infancy,  my  soul  lay  in  its 
envelope  of  flesh,  as  a  seed  lies  in  the  soil.  Then  at 
some  moment  in  the  infant's  career,  a  point  was 
reached  when  memory  awoke.  The  soul-embryo, 
germinated,  and  put  forth,  so  to  speak,  the  first  green 
shoots  of  consciousness. 

Since  that  fateful  moment  I  have  possessed  always, 
the  sense  of  continuousness.  Periods  of  unconscious- 
ness have  intervened,  but  never  have  such  periods 
broken  the  thread  of  my  being.  I  awake  from  a 
night's  sleep,  or  from  the  effects  of  an  anesthetic,  the 
same  identical  individual  I  was  before. 

Now,  if  there  were  no  soul,  if  there  were  nothing 
more  within  than  a  succession  of  separate  states  of 
consciousness,  a  series  of  mental  moods,  each  mood 
divided  from  the  one  going  before  and  from  the  one 
coming  after,  how  could  a  sense  of  continuousness 
ever  arise?  Is  it  not  absurd  to  suppose  that  a  con- 
tinuous state  could  be  obtained  out  of  states  that 
were  not  continuous? 

This  feeling  of  retained  identity,  is  itself  the  best 
of  evidence  that  behind  our  separate  sensations  is  a 
feeler,  a  thinker,  feeling  and  thinking  continuously, 
a  continuously  existing  soul. 

We  are  not  left  merely  to  infer  this  from  the  weight 
of  evidence.  In  addition  to  feeling  as  if  I  existed 
continuously,  I  know  it,  with  a  knowledge  I  cannot 


4  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

even  if  I  would  deny,  for  it  is  a  knowledge  impressed 
upon  me  by  my  sense  of  moral  responsibility. 

Twenty  years  ago  I  did  a  mean  thing.  Today 
when  I  think  of  it  I  feel  ashamed.  I  should  like  to  be 
able  to  believe  I  am  not  the  one  who  did  that  mean 
thing,  but  however  hard  I  try  I  cannot  get  rid  of  the 
consciousness  that  I  am  today  actually  the  same 
person  I  was  then.  Since  then  I  have  learned  much, 
experienced  much,  my  outward  appearance  has  changed 
much,  but  I  am  inwardly  the  same  person  I  was  then. 
My  sense  of  moral  responsibility  will  not  let  me  off. 

The  soundness  of  this  self-knowledge  of  mine  is 
borne  out  by  what  is  called  "character."  In  a  man 
of  character  we  have  an  irrefutable  witness  to  the 
truth  that  through  every  fluctuation  of  mental  mood 
and  outward  condition,  the  soul  remains  at  heart  the 
same.  A  man  of  character  stands  steadfast,  un- 
swerving from  high  principle,  whatever  be  the  changes 
of  outward  circumstance  through  which  he  passes. 

Here  is  an  example.  About  the  year  1891  a  well 
known  New  York  business  man  failed,  owing  his 
creditors  a  million  dollars. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  said  to  them,  "I  will  pay  you 
with  interest  when  I  get  on  my  feet  again." 

Such  was  their  confidence  in  his  character  that  they 
gave  him  a  full  release  then  and  there,  asking  for  no 
written  acknowledgment,  and  he  was  immediately 
reelected  a  member  of  the  Stock  Exchange. 

No  shrewder  set  of  people  exists  than  the  mer- 
chants and  brokers  doing  business  on  Wall  Street, 
New  York,  yet  they  were  willing  to  risk  a  million 
dollars  on  the  security  of  character. 

We  may  be  quite  sure  they  would  not  have  done  so, 
had  they  not  been  convinced  of  their  debtor's  ability 
to  remain  firm  and  true  to  honorable  principles;  that 


THE  SOUL  5 

is,  to  maintain  an  identical  attitude  of  mind  toward 
those  principles  no  matter  what  changes  of  fortune 
he  might  experience.  It  is  evident  that  a  man  cannot 
maintain  an  identical  attitude  of  mind  unless  he  him- 
self, as  a  soul,  remains  identical,  at  heart  the  same, 
through  all  fluctuations  of  mental  moods  and  out- 
ward conditions. 

I  know  then,  that  I  am  alive,  think,  feel,  act,  and 
remain  through  all  bodily  changes,  and  through  the 
changes  of  my  own  growth,  essentially  the  same. 
These  things  I  know  also  of  my  soul,  for  my  soul  is 
my  inward  self. 

Further  knowledge  of  my  soul  I  may  acquire  by 
observation  and  comparison,  by  reason  and  experi- 
ence, but  this  first  hand  knowledge  I  do  not  gain  by 
my  own  efforts.  It  is  bestowed  upon  me,  more  even 
than  that,  it  is  imposed.  It  is  a  gift  I  am  not  permitted 
to  decline,  I  cannot  continue  to  exist  without  becom- 
ing aware  of  these  things.  Experience  arouses  in  me 
a  consciousness  of  their  truth.  That  I  am  alive, 
think,  feel,  act,  and  retain  through  all  changes,  my 
personal  identity,  are  for  me  inexpugnable  realities, 
and  they  are  realities  of  the  soul. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  SOUL  AND  THE  BODY 

As  the  tree  dwells  in  the  seed,  so  the  inward  self,  the 
soul,  dwells  in  the  outward  self,  the  body.  Neverthe- 
less, while  inhabiting  a  tenement  of  clay  the  Thinker, 
the  Feeler,  does  not  consist  of  clay.  Inner  and  outer 
are  of  distinct  orders.  Soul  and  body  are  made  of 
different  stuff. 

This  corresponds  with  my  personal  sensations. 
As  a  result  of  these  I  find  myself  assuming  that  soul 
and  body  are  in  their  respective  natures  poles  assun- 
der. 

Often  my  soul  has  desired  to  achieve  some  hard 
task,  but  my  muscles  have  proved  unequal  to  the 
strain.  The  spirit  was  willing  but  the  flesh  was  weak. 

It  is  with  difficulty  that  my  limbs  move  at  more 
than  four  or  five  miles  an  hour,  while  my  soul  has  no 
difficulty  at  all  in  sending  its  thoughts  to  the  ends  of 
the  earth  in  the  fraction  of  a  second. 

My  body  loses  a  leg,  but  my  soul  loses  nothing. 
After  a  period  of  years  my  corporeal  frame  ceases 
to  grow.  Not  so  with  the  soul,  the  mind,  the  growth 
of  that,  continues  as  steadily  as  ever. 

If  judgment  is  to  depend  on  the  conclusion  drawn 
from  my  own  sensations,  undoubtedly,  the  verdict 
will  be,  soul  and  body  possess  natures  radically  at 
variance. 

6 


THE  SOUL  AND  THE  BODY  7 

Soul  and  body  are  made  of  different  stuff,  because  while 
the  latter  appeals  to  the  senses,  the  former  is  inaccess- 
ible to  sense. 

All  things  composed  of  material  substance  affect  us 
through  our  five  senses.  The  body  affects  us  in 
this  way.  We  see,  hear,  touch,  taste,  or  smell  it. 
If  the  soul  were  made  of  material  substance,  we  should 
be  able,  in  like  manner,  either  to  see,  hear,  touch, 
taste,  or  smell  it.  We  can  do  neither  the  one  nor  the 
other.  Our  knowledge  of  it  comes  through  no  avenue 
of  sense,  but  from  within. 

Between  the  soul  and  the  body  there  is  thus  a  fun- 
damental contrast.  The  chasm  which  yawns  be- 
tween mental  and  physical  is  less  easily  bridged  by 
the  mind  than  any  interval  we  know. 

Soul  and  body  are  made  of  different  stuff  for  the  reason 
that  the  soul  does  not  possess  the  qualities  character- 
istic of  bodily  substance. 

Men  of  science  agree  that  the  materials  of  which  our 
bodies  are  formed  are  at  bottom  alike.  These  mater- 
ials, solids,  liquids,  gases,  are  all  constructed  after  a 
common  pattern  to  which  has  been  given  the  name 
Molecular.  This  means  that  when  solids,  liquids, 
gases,  are  analysed,  they  are  found  to  consist  of  minute 
clusters  of  atoms  called  molecules. 

All  these  molecular  substances,  of  which  our  bodies 
are  composed,  are  distinguished  by  two  peculiarities, 
weight,  and  volume.  They  are  all  more  or  less  heavy, 
and  take  up  more  or  less  room.  Each  particle  of 
flesh,  nerve,  muscle  and  bone,  even  a  particle  so  small 
as  to  be  detected  only  by  a  microscope,  is  stamped 
with  these  two  essential  marks  of  bodily  substance, 
weight  and  volume. 


8  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

Now  a  dead  body,  a  body  from  which  the  soul  has 
departed,  weighs  as  much  as  a  living  body.  Since 
the  presence  or  absence  of  the  soul  makes  no  differ- 
ence to  the  body's  weight,  evidently  the  soul  does 
not  possess  the  quality  of  weight.  Nor  does  its 
presence  or  absence  make  any  difference  in  the  size 
of  the  body.  Consequently  the  soul  does  not  possess 
the  quality  of  size  or  volume.  It  takes  up  no  room, 
it  occupies  no  space. 

Did  the  soul  possess  these  attributes  they  would  be 
likely  to  make  themselves  felt  during  the  various 
changes  through  which  the  soul  passes. 

For  instance,  there  are  times  when  it  is  empty  and 
vacant  of  ideas;  there  are  periods  again  when  the 
soul  expands  and  the  mind  is  filled  to  overflowing. 
At  such  moments  we  should  expect  a  decided  decrease 
or  increase  in  bulk  and  weight  were  the  soul  made  of 
bodily  material.  As  a  matter  of  fact  not  the  slightest 
shadow  of  decrease  or  increase  is  discernible.  The 
orator  requires  no  larger  size  of  hat,  nor  does  he 
weigh  any  more,  when  in  the  midst  of  a  perfervid 
peroration  than  when  asleep.  Yet  assuredly  he  would 
do  so  if  the  torrent  of  thoughts  that  crowd  and  jostle 
through  his  brain  filled  even  the  minutest  section  of 
space.  The  seething  mass  would  be  apt  to  swell  and 
split  his  skull.  Were  thoughts  even  in  the  smallest 
degree  subject  to  the  influence  of  gravitation  the 
sudden  addition  to  the  orator's  weight  at  moments  of 
rhetorical  excitement  would  endanger  the  stability 
of  the  platform. 

Thoughts  occupy  no  space  nor  can  they  be  meas- 
ured in  a  balance.  They  do  not  possess,  nor  does  the 
mind  or  soul,  of  which  they  are  the  manifestations, 
possess,  either  volume  or  weight. 

Since  neither  of  the  qualities  characteristic  of  bodily 


THE  SOUL  AND  THE  BODY  9 

substance  is  found  in  the  soul,  therefore,  it  does  not 
consist  of  bodily  substance,  but  of  something  else. 

Soul  and  body  are  made  of  different  stuff  because  the 
soul  possesses  special  attributes  not  found  in  bodily 
substance. 

All  organic  material,  the  kind  of  which  our  bodies 
are  composed,  is  constantly  changing  so  that  there  is 
nothing  permanent  about  it. 

Not  only  do  changes  take  place  in  the  substance  of 
the  brain,  this  substance  is  passing  away  continually 
and  to  such  an  extent  that  the  brain  of  the  man  of 
twenty  is  not  the  same  as  that  of  the  boy  of  twelve, 
and  that  of  the  man  of  thirty,  is  not  the  same  as  that 
of  the  man  of  twenty.  By  the  time  he  reaches  forty, 
his  brain  has  been  again  renewed,  and  so  on  periodi- 
cally until  the  end.  Each  of  us  is  furnished  not  with 
one  brain  lasting  a  life  time,  but  with  a  series  of 
brains. 

Yet  a  man  of  sixty,  although  every  particle  of  his 
previous  brain  has  been  destroyed,  is  able  to  think 
over  again  the  thoughts  he  had  when  he  was  forty  or 
even  when  he  was  twenty.  He  has  only  to  make  a 
mental  effort  and  the  past  stands  up  ghost-like  before 
him.  The  brain  material  of  thirty  or  forty  years  ago 
has  long  since  passed  away,  ceased  to  exist.  How  then 
could  the  thoughts  of  this  extinct  brain  have  survived? 

The  brain  of  the  man  of  sixty  with  which  he  is 
supposed  to  think  about  the  past,  is  a  new  one,  com- 
posed of  wholly  new  material.  It  is  inconceivable 
that  this  new  organ  can  think  thoughts  produced  by 
another  organ  that  ceased  to  exist  thirty  or  forty 
years  previously. 

Perhaps  it  may  be  said  that  the  act  of  memory  by  the 


10  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

man  of  sixty  is  not  really  a  thinking  of  old  thoughts 
over  again  but  merely  the  shadow  or  reflection  of 
those  old  thoughts  cast  by  the  dying  brain  onto  the 
surface  of  its  successor,  and  again  recast  by  this 
successor,  and  so  on  through  the  series  down  to  the 
present. 

But  in  order  that  a  dying  brain  should  cast  a 
reflection  on  its  successor  that  successor  must  be 
already  in  existence,  and  this  would  imply  the  pres- 
ence within  the  skull  of  two  brains  at  the  same  time, 
which  is  clearly  absurd.  Evidently  the  thinking  is 
done  not  by  the  substance,  not  by  the  gray  matter  of 
the  brain  but  by  something  else,  something  made  of 
quite  different  elements,  of  elements  that  do  not 
change  as  the  brain  changes,  but  possess  a  quality  of 
permanence  enabling  identity  to  be  retained  through 
all  changes. 

It  is  equally  evident  that  the  something  else  pos- 
sessing the  quality  of  permanent  identity,  which  the 
bodily  substance  of  the  brain  does  not  possess,  is 
what  is  meant  when  we  speak  of  the  soul.  By  reason 
of  this  extraordinary  attribute  of  retained  identity, 
the  soul  is  able  to  think  over  again  now,  the  thoughts 
which  it  thought  in  the  far  past  of  its  youth. 

It  recognizes  between  itself  thinking  now,  and  it- 
self thinking  in  the  years  gone  by,  a  real  connection. 

In  this  there  is  no  self  deception.  The  matter  is 
not  left  for  us  to  settle.  We  cannot  help  being  sure 
that  the  thinker  thinking  now,  is  the  same  thinker 
who  thought  in  the  long  vanished  days. 

When  right  and  wrong  are  in  question,  I  may 
desire,  perhaps  passionately  desire,  to  avoid  the 
recognition,  but  it  cannot  be  avoided.  I  know  in 
my  heart  of  hearts  that  the  connection  is  real,  and 
that  although  my  head  is  hoary  and  my  back  bent 


THE  SOUL  AND  THE  BODY  11 

with  the  burden  of  years,  I  am  essentially  the  same 
person  as  the  guilty  or  innocent  individual  of  thirty 
years  ago. 

The  soul  has  other  qualities  not  possessed  by  bodily 
substance,  but  this  one  attribute  of  permanent 
identity,  alone  suffices  to  demonstrate  that  however 
closely  associated,  the  materials  of  which  soul  and 
body  are  respectively  composed  are  of  distinct  and 
widely  divergent  kinds. 

Because  the  soul  is  inaccessible  to  sense,  because 
it  is  destitute  of  the  characteristic  qualities  of  material 
substance,  because  it  possesses  other  attributes  not 
possessed  by  material  substance,  therefore,  soul  and 
body  belong  to  different  orders. 

Thus,  whatever  their  relationship  be,  it  cannot  be 
a  relationship  of  cause  and  effect.  The  one  is  not  a 
product  of  the  other. 

From  time  to  time  various  writers  have  insisted 
that  mind  is  a  secretion  of  the  brain  in  the  sense  for 
instance,  that  milk  is  a  secretion  of  the  lacteal  glands 
of  the  cow,  or  tears  of  the  lachrymal  glands  of  the 
eye. 
To  this  motion  there  are  two  fatal  objections. 

1.  A  secretion  is  a  product  of  that  by  which  it  is 
secreted.     Milk  and  tears  are  products  respectively,  of 
the  lacteal  and  lachrymal  glands,  and  being  products, 
milk  and  tears  are  composed  essentially  of  the  same 
materials  as  the  glands  by  which  they  are  produced. 
But  it  has  been  shown  that  mind,  thought,  soul,  is 
not  a  product  of  brain  substance,  and  is  not  made  of 
the  same  material,  consequently,  it  cannot  be  a  secre- 
tion of  brain  substance. 

2.  Mind  cannot  be  a  secretion  of  brain  substance  as 
tears  are  a  secretion  of  the  substance  of  the  lachrymal 
glands,  because  the  brain  is  not  a  gland.     It  does  not 


12  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

even  resemble  a  gland.  Cerebral  tissue  is  not  in  the 
least  like  glandular  tissue.  The  brain  is  no  more  a 
gland,  than  is  a  hand  or  foot,  and  never  secretes 
anything. 

There  are  some,  however,  who  still  cling  to  the 
opposite  theory,  and  maintain  that  the  soul  must  be 
produced  by  the  body.  The  reason  generally  given  is, 
that  thought  is  a  function  of  the  brain  substance,  just 
as  steam  is  a  function  of  the  boiling  tea  kettle,  or 
light  of  the  electric  circuit,  or  power  of  the  moving 
water  fall.  This  functional  relationship,  it  is  argued, 
is  causal,  and  implies  production. 

Our  answer  is,  that  the  exercise  of  function  is  not 
necessarily  causal.  In  the  physical  world,  says 
William  James,  we  have  also  permissive  or  releasing, 
and  we  have  transmissive  function. 

The  keys  of  an  organ  have  transmissive  function. 
They  open  successively  the  various  pipes,  and  let  the 
wind  in  the  air  chest  escape  in  various  ways.  The 
voices  of  the  pipes  are  constituted  by  the  columns  of 
air  trembling  as  they  emerge.  But  the  air  is  not 
engendered  in,  or  produced  by,  the  organ.  When 
therefore,  we  say  thought  is  a  function  of  brain  sub- 
stance, it  does  not  follow  that  the  brain  substance 
produced  the  thought,  the  connection  may  have 
been  one  of  transmitting,  or  releasing.  The  functional 
relation  may  be  like  that  of  the  lens  and  the  light  as 
suggested  by  Huxley.  [Life  and  Letters,  vol.  2.  p.  299.] 

He  writes  "  Consider  a  parallel  sided  piece  of  glass 
through  which  light  passes.  It  forms  no  picture. 
Shape  it  so  as  to  be  bi-convex  and  a  picture  appears 
in  its  focus.  Is  not  the  formation  of  this  picture  a 
function  of  the  piece  of  glass  so  shaped?  Neverthe- 
less the  piece  of  glass  produces  neither  the  picture  nor 
the  picture  making  power.  These  reside  in  the  light. 


THE  SOUL  AND  THE  BODY  13 

All  the  lens  does  is  to  modify  the  action  of  the  light 
and  so  to  cause  its  powers  to  be  apparent  to  our 
senses." 

Suppose  soul  and  brain  are  related  roughly  speaking 
as  the  light  to  the  lens.  If  it  be  that  only  through  the 
brain  lens  the  soul  can  throw  thought  pictures  onto  the 
receiving  network  of  the  nervous  system,  and  so  cause 
the  muscles  to  move  and  things  to  be  done  and  said, 
then  the  thoughts  of  the  soul  would  appear  to  be 
functions  of  the  brain  lens.  Still  the  thoughts  would 
not  be  produced  by  the  brain  lens  any  more  than  the 
light  was  produced  by  the  lens  of  glass. 

In  some  such  way  as  this,  the  closest  association 
might  exist  between  thought  and  brain  substance, 
without  the  one  being  the  product  of  the  other.  A 
writer  in  the  Contemporary  Review  [F.R.C.S.]  states 
the  position  thus. 

"To  watch  day  by  day  a  case  of  profound  uncon- 
sciousness, the  body  a  mere  log  fed  through  a  tube,  a 
physiological  machine,  a  thing  with  no  more  thought 
in  it  than  a  dummy  figure,  and  to  see  men  and  women 
brought  to  a  like  state  in  a  few  minutes  by  chloroform 
or  ether,  and  kept  there  just  as  part  of  a  day's  work, 
and  to  see  the  process  reversed,  and  the  lost  owner 
of  a  body  spirited  back  into  it  by  an  operation  to  his 
brain,  here  are  the  arguments  ready-made  for  mater- 
ialism to  use  with  effect." 

Impressive  as  such  cases  are,  they  do  not  prove  that 
the  mind  or  soul  is  a  product  of  the  body.  The 
phenomena  may  be  explained  equally  well  by  a  differ- 
ent theory. 

Theory  number  one,  assumes  that  consciousness  is 
related  to  the  body  much  as  the  flame  is  related  to  the 
wick  and  oil  of  the  lamp.  An  anesthetic  turns  down  the 
wick  and  so  extinguishes  the  flame. 


14  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

Theory  number  two,  supposes  that  consciousness  is 
related  to  the  body  roughly  speaking  as  the  lamp  to 
the  room  which  it  illuminates.  Consciousness  the 
lamp,  the  body  the  room.  According  to  this  second 
theory,  what  the  anesthetic  does,  is  not  to  turn  down 
the  wick  and  so  extinguish  the  flame,  but  to  lower  an 
opaque  shade  over  the  lamp  and  so  extinguish  its 
illuminating  power  as  regards  the  room. 

On  both  theories  darkness  is  produced,  the  darkness 
of  unconsciousness,  but  according  to  the  first,  the 
result  is  achieved  by  destroying  consciousness,  (ex- 
tinguishing the  flame).  According  to  the  second  by 
cutting  off  the  connection  of  consciousness  with  its 
bodily  surroundings,  (by  interposing  an  opaque  barrier 
between  the  lamp  and  the  room) . 

Is  there  any  evidence  to  show  which  of  these  two 
theories  is  the  more  nearly  correct? 

There  is  evidence  at  any  rate  to  show  that  the  first 
is  not  correct.  If  the  effect  of  the  anesthetic  were  to 
extinguish  the  flame,  to  destroy  consciousness,  then 
when  consciousness  is  restored,  on  the  withdrawal  of 
the  anesthetic,  it  would  involve  the  creation  of  a  new 
consciousness.  Whereas  in  actual  fact,  what  is  restored 
is  a  consciousness  recognizing  its  responsibility  for 
obligations,  (the  doctor's  fee,  for  instance,)  incurred 
previous  to  the  administration  of  the  anesthetic.  Con- 
sequently it  is  the  same  old  consciousness,  that  illum- 
inated its  tenement  of  clay  before  the  opaque  shade  of 
anesthesia  was  dropped  over  it. 

The  deathlike  condition  of  the  physical  frame  did 
not  mean  the  extinction  of  consciousness,  as  would  be 
the  case  were  consciousness  a  product  of  the  brain  sub- 
stance, as  the  flame  of  the  wick  and  oil,  but  that  con- 
nection with  its  environment  was  cut  off  temporarily. 
Probably  then,  the  function  of  the  gray  matter  of  the 


THE  SOUL  AND  THE  BODY  15 

brain  is  of  the  transmitting  order.  It  is  certainly  not 
productive,  and  implies  no  causal  connection  between 
brain  and  mind. 

If  their  connection  is  not  causal,  what  is  the 
relationship?  Soul  and  body  are  very  closely  associa- 
ted. The  state  of  the  body  affects  more  or  less  the 
state  of  the  soul,  or  at  least  the  conditions  of  its 
intercourse  with  the  material  world.  A  state  of 
bodily  health  promotes  mental  activity,  a  congested 
liver,  mental  torpor.  The  pressure  of  a  splinter  of 
bone  may  result  in  idiocy.  There  are  records  of 
persons  who,  while  retaining  their  mental  faculties 
to  the  full,  were  unable  to  communicate  by  sign  or 
sound  with  those  about  them,  because,  in  conse- 
quence of  some  sudden  shock,  their  nervous  system 
had  been  paralyzed.  Conversely,  the  state  of  the 
soul  affects  the  state  of  the  body.  Cheerful  thoughts 
promote  digestion,  joyful  anticipation  quickens  the 
pulse,  anxiety  depresses  the  nervous  system,  fear 
may  produce  death. 

In  such  ways  do  soul  and  body  act  and  react  on  one 
another.  So  far  as  this  earthly  career  is  concerned, 
the  welfare  of  the  one  depends  on  the  welfare  of  the 
other.  Intimate  and  profound  as  their  mutual  influ- 
ence is,  may  it  not  be  adequately  explained  on  the 
assumption  of  a  working  partnership?  Are  not  the 
facts  accounted  for  on  the  hypothesis  of  cooperation? 

Were  this  the  relationship,  we  should  expect  that 
to  happen  which  does  happen.  With  the  physical 
machinery  thrown  out  of  order  by  injury  or  disease, 
it  would  become  difficult  for  the  soul  to  exercise 
control.  Under  these  circumstances  the  familiar 
phenomena  of  disease,  weakness,  periods  of  uncon- 
sciousness, delirium,  or  the  eccentricities  of  insanity, 
would  be  the  natural  results. 


16  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

Not  even  a  Paderewski  can  get  music  from  a  piano 
that  is  out  of  tune,  so  not  even  the  most  vigorous 
soul  can  get  normal  action  from  a  diseased  brain  or 
body. 

The  operator  may  be  there  fully  alive,  but  if  the 
wires  are  down  no  message  can  be  sent. 

On  the  other  hand,  if  soul  and  body  be  in  coopera- 
tive association  it  is  conceivable  that  the  body  may 
be  carried  triumphantly  through  the  strain  and  stress 
of  trying  vicissitudes  by  the  supporting  energy  of  the 
soul,  and  that  by  this  same  soul  energy,  minor  physical 
injuries  and  defects  may  be  healed  and  overcome. 

The  question  is  often  asked,  in  what  part  of  the 
physical  frame  does  the  soul  reside?  There  is  no 
answer.  It  can  be  said  only  that  when  certain 
portions  of  the  physical  frame  are  destroyed,  the 
brain  for  instance,  the  connection  comes  to  an  end. 
The  tenant  is  turned  out  of  doors. 

Of  the  relations  between  the  inward  self  or  soul 
and  the  outward  or  bodily  self,  we  learn  then,  that 
they  are  not  those  of  product  and  producer,  but  of 
partner  and  partner. 

Finally  it  may  be  added,  the  soul  is  the  senior 
member  of  the  firm,  the  more  important  element  in 
us,  the  thing  that  counts  and  makes  us  what  we  are. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  SOUL  AND  THE  WORLD 

WITHIN  is  the  soul,  without,  is  the  world.  Just  as 
it  is  impossible  to  think  of  left  apart  from  right,  or 
right  apart  from  left,  so  is  it  impossible  to  think  of 
the  soul  apart  from  the  world,  or  the  world  apart 
from  the  soul.  The  two  are  inseparable.  Com- 
munication between  them  is  carried  on  through  sight, 
sound,  touch,  taste,  smell.  These  sensations  are,  as 
it  were,  the  fingers  of  the  world  playing  upon  the 
strings  of  the  soul,  and  bringing  therefrom  chords 
and  melodies.  The  world  is  the  teacher  of  the  soul. 

About  what  it  sees,  hears,  touches,  tastes,  smells, 
the  soul  thinks,  reflects,  reasons,  compares,  judges, 
and  thus  learns  in  a  twofold  way,  by  the  world's 
action,  and  by  its  own  action.  In  these  two  ways  the 
soul  acquires  knowledge  of  the  world  without,  and 
knowledge  also  concerning  itself,  its  own  capacities 
and  powers. 

One  of  the  chief  lessons  learned  about  the  world 
is  that  all  things  therein,  are  related. 

Step  by  step,  the  knowledge  is  gathered,  that 
even  where  to  the  ordinary  observer  there  seems 
absolutely  nothing  in  common,  more  careful  examina- 
tion shows  always  that  relationships  exist. 

At  first  glance  no  one  would  suspect  any  connection 
between  a  thrush  and  a  sprig  of  mistletoe,  a  song  bird 
palpitating  with  energetic  life,  and  a  dull  vegetable 
growth  with  scarcely  a  life  of  its  own  at  all.  In  out- 

17 


18  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

ward   appearance   very   different,    there   is   between 
these  two  nevertheless  an  intimate  relationship. 

To  secure  the  survival  of  the  mistletoe  its  seeds 
must  be  planted  in  the  bark  of  trees.  The  seeds  are 
enclosed  in  berries  which  ripen  in  midwinter.  At 
this  season  when  the  trees  around  are  bare,  the 
mistletoe  is  bright  and  fresh  and  can  be  seen  through 
the  leafless  forest  from  a  long  way  off.  Now  the 
berries,  the  presence  of  which  is  signalled  so  con- 
spicuously, are  especially  suited  to  the  taste  of 
thrushes  and  by  them  are  sought  after  with  avidity. 
Having  eaten  the  delicious  pulp  the  bird  finds  the 
seeds  adhering  to  its  bill,  for  they  are  coated  with  a 
sticky  gum.  To  get  rid  of  the  nuisance  he  rubs  his 
bill  against  the  bark  and  thus  becomes  the  instrument 
by  which  the  seeds  are  planted  in  the  kind  of  soil, 
exactly  suited  to  their  needs. 

[W.  Marshall  Pop.  Sc.  Rev.  March  1887]. 

In  a  similar  way  all  living  creatures  are  linked 
together.  The  several  hundred  thousand  species  are 
grouped  into  two  families,  one  with  backbones  and 
the  other  without,  while  countless  intermediate  forms 
link  vertebrate  with  invertebrate,  the  elephant  with 
the  oyster,  man  with  the  amaeba. 

Among  vegetable  products,  unbroken  lines  of  con- 
nection can  be  established  between  objects  outwardly 
as  different  as  the  blue  mold  on  an  old  boot,  and  the 
giant  redwood  trees  of  California,  or  the  rose  outside 
your  window,  and  the  microscopic  seaweed  flourish- 
ing miles  deep  in  mid  Atlantic. 

Nor  does  any  gulf  divide  plants  from  animals. 
"They  are  identical  in  internal  structure  and  in  the 
discharge  of  the  mysterious  processes  of  reproduction 
and  nutrition." 


THE  SOUL  AND  THE  WORLD  19 

In  the  mineral  kingdom  solids,  liquids,  gases,  unlike 
as  they  are  in  appearance  and  in  quality,  are  all 
made  out  of  the  same  atomic  material. 

Furthermore  the  living  is  related  to  the  non-living. 
Animal,  vegetable,  mineral,  dovetail  into  one  another 
as  it  were.  They  are  but  different  forms  of  the  same 
substance,  variations  of  the  same  theme. 

What  is  true  of  animal,  plant,  and  mineral,  is  true 
also  of  the  forces  of  nature.  They  seem  erratic  and 
independent,  in  reality  they  work  together.  The 
expansive  power  of  steam,  the  shock  of  electricity,  the 
explosion  of  gunpowder,  these,  in  the  words  of  Pro- 
fessor Atwater,  "can  be  shown  to  be  merely  different 
forms  of  the  same  energy  which  vibrates  in  the  notes 
of  a  song,  or  expands  in  the  growth  of  flowers,  and  is 
in  the  cyclone  which  devastates  the  land,  as  in  the 
cooling  zephyr  of  a  summer's  evening,  in  the  awful 
rolling  of  the  thunder,  and  in  the  lightning's  flash,  as 
in  the  rustle  of  the  leaves,  and  the  gentle  cooing  of 
the  doves,  in  the  tramping  of  armed  hosts,  the  roar 
of  artillery,  and  the  carnage  of  battle,  as  in  the  soft 
caress  and  tender  lullaby  with  which  the  mother 
sings  and  soothes  her  babe  to  sleep." 

The  life  that  pulsates  in  the  African  savage,  in  the 
brain  of  a  Plato,  in  the  muscles  of  a  prize  fighter,  in 
the  worm  slowly  crawling  across  the  garden  path, 
and  the  eagle  swooping  to  his  prey,  in  the  bee  hum- 
ming from  flower  to  flower,  in  the  microbe,  and  in 
the  bird  of  paradise,  is  a  manifestation  and  expression 
of  the  same  life. 

It  would  seem  that  all  things  and  all  souls  are  en- 
meshed in  a  network  of  relationships. 

Scientific  research  confirms  this  idea.  Men  of 
science  explore  the  realm  of  nature  in  many  different 
ways.  Darwin  patiently  records  tens  of  thousands  of 


20  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

subtle  changes  in  insect,  bird  and  beast.  Pasteur 
spends  half  a  life  time  in  studying  millions  of  minute 
vegetable  and  animal  forms.  Edison  probes  labor- 
iously the  properties  of  electricity  and  light.  These 
men  investigated  various  departments  of  nature,  and 
they  carried  on  their  investigations  for  many  years, 
and  over  vast  areas,  but  they  never  reached  a  border 
line  at  which  the  relationship  of  things  came  to  an 
end. 

"Astronomers  are  able  to  predict  eclipses,  to 
calculate  to  within  twenty-four  hours  the  return  of 
a  comet,  to  measure  the  rate  at  w^hich  distant  planets 
far  beyond  the  margin  of  our  solar  system  are  revolv- 
ing round  their  suns,  because  precisely  the  same  laws 
prevail  in  the  remotest  spaces  of  the  starry  heavens, 
as  exist  here  on  earth." 

Nothing  is  isolated  and  apart.  Everything  is 
connected  with  everything  else.  Relationship  is  uni- 
versal. 

Professor  G.  Stanley  Hall  tells  of  a  student  whose 
teacher  set  him  to  study  experimentally  one  of  the 
seventeen  muscles  of  a  frog's  leg.  At  first  he  was 
disposed  to  resent  having  such  an  insignificant  sub- 
ject assigned  to  him,  but  as  he  progressed,  he  found 
that  in  order  to  understand  this  one  tiny  tendon  he 
must  understand  in  a  more  minute  and  practical  way 
than  before,  in  a  way  that  made  previous  knowledge 
unreal,  questions  in  electricity,  chemistry,  mechanics, 
physiology,  questions  of  complex  relation  in  every 
direction.  As  the  winter  proceeded  the  history  of 
previous  views  was  traced  and  still  other  and  broader 
biological  relations  were  perceived,  and  as  the  sum- 
mer waned  and  a  second  year  was  begun  in  the  study 
of  this  single  muscle,  it  was  seen  that  the  laws  of  life 
are  the  same  in  frogs  and  men,  and  that  contractile 


THE  SOUL  AND  THE  WORLD  21 

tissue  of  the  same  kind  had  done  all  that  man  had 
accomplished  in  the  world,  and  that  muscles  are  the 
only  organs  of  the  will.  As  the  work  went  on,  it 
seemed  as  though  the  great  mysteries  of  the  universe 
were  centred  round  the  student's  theme. 

In  the  investigation  of  this  minute  object  he  passed 
gradually  from  the  attitude  of  Peter  Bell,  up  to 
the  standpoint  of  the  Seer  who  plucked  a  flower  from 
the  crannied  wall,  and  realised  that  could  he  but 
understand  what  it  was,  "root  and  all  and  all  in 
all,"  he  would  ''know  what  God  and  man  is." 

"All  things  by  immortal  power 
Near  or  far 

Hiddenly 

To  each  other  linked  are, 
And  thou  canst  not  stir  a  flower 
Without  troubling  a  star." 

When  we  ask  what  this  universal  relationship 
means,  the  answer  is,  it  means  organization.  It 
signifies  that  instead  of  being  a  chaos  of  contending 
powers,  the  universe  is  a  kosmos  of  co-operating 
powers,  part  working  with  part,  force  with  force,  as 
a  connected  whole,  fitted  and  framed  together,  all  of 
a  piece,  an  organization. 

Like  a  fly  in  the  spider's  web,  like  a  child  wandering 
in  the  streets  of  London,  like  a  small  star  encircled 
by  the  measureless  labyrinths  of  the  milky  way,  the 
soul  is  encircled  by  the  vast  and  strong  organization 
of  the  universe.  There  is  no  escape. 

"We  in  some  unknown  power's  employ 

Move  in  a  rigorous  line 
We  cannot  when  we  will  enjoy, 
Nor  when  we  will  decline." 


22  THE  SOUL  AND  THE  WORLD 

It  is  the  part  of  wisdom  therefore,  for  the  soul  to 
endeavor  to  learn  what  it  can  of  the  nature  of  this 
encompassing  universe,  that  it  may  know  what  its 
own  fate  is  likely  to  be,  and  what  it  ought  to  do  under 
the  circumstances. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  POWER  BEHIND  THE  SOUL  AND  THE  WORLD 

Behind  all  things  is  one  thing,  and  that  one  thing  is  a 
power  of  life. 

WHERE  then,  shall  we  find  the  key  to  the  inter- 
pretation of  the  world  problem?  As  we  have  seen, 
the  outstanding  fact  is  organization.  How  was  the 
organizing  done?  Did  the  universe  organize  itself? 

Since  the  universe  is  an  organization,  it  consists,  as 
all  organizations  consist,  of  parts,  few  or  many,  great 
or  small.  When  we  speak  of  the  universe  as  organiz- 
ing itself,  we  say,  in  effect,  that  the  operation  was 
performed  by  these  component  parts,  by  one  or  more, 
or  by  all  of  them  together.  The  peculiar  nature  of 
an  organization  makes  such  an  idea  irrational. 

On  the  beach  is  a  heap  of  stones  washed  up  by  the 
sea.  Men  arrive,  cart  them  away,  and  they  are  built 
into  a  house.  So  long  as  they  lay  upon  the  beach, 
they  were  just  stones.  Now,  they  are  constituents  of 
a  structure.  Now,  they  are  associated  for  the  pro- 
duction of  a  definite  result.  Together  with  all  the 
other  constituents  they  have  now  been  made  to  con- 
tribute to  the  existence  of  a  house.  They  have  thus 
become  subordinate  to  a  power  working  toward  an 
end  or  purpose  beyond  themselves,  the  power,  namely, 
of  the  builder's  will,  working  toward  the  end  or  pur- 
pose of  an  organization  called  a  house.  The  builder's 
will,  to  which,  as  parts  of  the  house  organization  they 
are  now  subordinate,  is  something  other  than,  and 

23 


24  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

different  from,  themselves,  and  it  is  to  this  something 
other  than  and  different  from  themselves,  that  the 
organization  is  due.  Consequently,  the  stones  have 
ceased  to  be  mere  stones  and  have  become  constitu- 
ent parts  of  an  organization,  through  subjection  to  an 
organizing  influence  other  than,  and  different  from, 
themselves. 

This  will  be  found  true  in  every  case.  The  parts  of 
which  an  organization  is  composed,  are  where  they  are, 
and  fulfill  their  respective  functions,  by  reason  of 
being  subject  to  an  organizing  influence,  other  than, 
and  different  from,  any  of  the  parts  it  influences. 

Since  its  existence  is  due  to  an  influence  other 
than,  and  different  from,  any  of  its  parts,  an  organiza- 
tion cannot  be  self  organized. 

The  same  argument  may  be  stated  in  different 
words,  as  follows: 

An  organization  cannot  be  organized  by  its  own 
parts,  because,  the  part  is  conditional  to  the  organiza- 
tion. That  which  is  conditional,  follows  that  which 
conditions.  Therefore,  the  part,  (that  which  is  con- 
ditional), cannot  be  the  origin  of  the  organization, 
(that  which  conditions),  for  that  which  is  subsequent, 
cannot  be  the  origin  of  that  which  is  antecedent. 
Again,  suppose  we  have  the  three  parts  of  an  egg, 
yolk,  white,  shell,  entirely  separate,  lying,  let  us 
imagine,  on  three  separate  tables.  The  yolk  possesses 
the  qualities  of  yolk,  the  white,  the  qualities  of  white, 
the  shell,  the  qualities  of  shell. 

Now,  if  we  add  these  three  qualities  together,  we 
shall  get,  yolk,  +  white, +shell,  but  we  shall  not  get 
anything  else.  If  we  want  anything  else,  we  must 
add  other  qualities.  If  we  want  an  egg,  for  instance, 
we  must  add  to  the  qualities  belonging  to  yolk,  and 
white,  and  shell,  the  qualities  belonging  to  an  egg. 


THE  POWER  BEHIND  THE  SOUL  25 

Since  yolk,  and  white  and  shell,  possess  only  the 
qualities  of  yolk,  and  white,  and  shell,  this  egg 
quality,  which  is  to  unite  them  into  the  organic  whole- 
ness of  an  egg,  must  be  sought  elsewhere.  An  addi- 
tional agency  must  be  brought  into  play,  that, 
namely,  of  the  laying  hen. 

It  is  the  same  in  all  cases.  The  influence  which 
brings  the  several  parts  into  organic  relations,  must 
have  its  sources  elsewhere  than  in  the  several  parts. 
In  other  words,  an  organization  cannot,  by  its  very 
nature,  organize  itself. 

Are  not  exceptions  to  be  found  in  human  institu- 
tions such  as  clubs,  baseball  teams,  etc.?  Do  we  not 
often  speak  of  these  as  organizing  themselves? 

The  exception  is  apparent  only.  Before  either  club 
or  baseball  team  can  come  into  existence,  the  idea  of 
them  must  arise  in  the  mind  of  some  organizer,  and 
although  that  individual  may  subsequently  join  the 
association  he  has  devised,  he  must  devise  it  first, 
and  plan  out  its  general  scheme,  before  it  can  have 
its  birth,  or  he  himself  be  counted  among  its  members. 

To  the  plain  man  it  is  self  evident  that  a  similar 
explanation  is  required  for  the  world  organization. 
There  must  be  an  organizing  influence  having  its 
source  elsewhere  than  in  the  parts  of  the  world  which 
it  welds  together  and  brings  into  organic  relationship. 

Behind  and  beyond  the  universal  organization 
there  must  be  a  universal  organizer. 

Was  the  universe  organized  by  chance? 

Did  a  flurry  of  minute  particles  by  accident  get 
jostled  into  such  relations  as  to  bring  forth  a  world? 
The  universe  could  not  have  been  produced  in  any 
such  vague,  haphazard  way. 


26  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

Organization  implies  a  look  ahead,  in  the  case  of 
the  universe,  a  very  long  look  ahead.  The  whole 
existing  order  of  things  must  have  been  foreseen  from 
the  first. 

The  chief  requisite  for  enterprise  of  this  kind  is 
that  you  should  have  clearly  in  mind  what  you  in- 
tend to  do.  If  it  be  your  aim  to  lay  out  a  garden,  or 
to  build  a  house,  or  to  arrange  a  public  meeting, 
success  will  depend  on  the  extent  to  which  you  have 
worked  out  your  ideas  beforehand,  on  the  clearness 
of  your  forethought,  and  on  the  thoroughness  with 
which  you  subordinate  every  detail  to  the  main 
object  in  view. 

If  this  applies  to  the  comparatively  simple  achieve- 
ments of  the  human  intellect,  how  much  more  to  the 
inconceivably  vast  and  complex  universe!  Whatever 
may  have  been  the  particular  method  by  which  the 
universe  was  brought  forth,  most  certainly  it  was 
not  brought  forth  by  chance. 

Is  evolution  the  organizer? 

Evolution  is  merely  a  descriptive  term.  When  we 
say  the  various  species  of  animals  and  vegetables 
have  been  produced  by  evolution,  we  mean  they  have 
been  produced  by  certain  natural  processes  operating 
according  to  evolutionary  principles.  These  natural 
processes  do  the  business.  The  term  evolution  simply 
describes,  and  so  far  as  it  goes  truly  describes,  the 
general  manner  in  which  they  work.  It  affirms  that 
they  brought  forth  the  world  organization  by  acting 
along  developmental  lines.  Not  evolution,  then,  but 
that  which  was  behind  evolution,  accomplished  the 
organizing. 


THE  POWER  BEHIND  THE  SOUL  27 

The  universe  has  been  organized  by  some  kind  of  power. 

Thorough  analysis  of  any  object  brings  us  at  last 
always  to  two  primal  constituents,  matter  and 
motion.  The  objects  may  vary  but  the  result  to  which 
the  examination  leads  never  varies.  In  the  end,  we 
arrive  always  at  matter  and  motion.  May  we  not 
say,  then,  that  here  in  matter  and  motion  we  have  the 
final  organizing  influences  of  the  universe? 

No,  for  these  things  are  not  final.  They  are  them- 
selves subject  to  organization. 

This  must  be  the  case,  for  out  of  them  has  sprung 
the  universe,  had  they  been  left  to  themselves  they 
could  not  have  given  birth  to  a  universe.  Had  motion 
and  matter  been  left  to  themselves,  the  whole  of 
matter  would  have  moved  toward  a  common  centre 
of  gravity  round  which  it  would  have  congealed  in  a 
uniform  spherical  mass. 

Instead,  matter  has  been  drawn  into  millions  of 
different  centres  of  gravity,  from  the  combinations 
and  recombinations  of  which,  the  universe  has  been 
constructed. 

Something,  therefore,  it  is  evident,  must  have 
directed  motion  and  arranged  matter.  This  some- 
thing, it  is  equally  evident,  must  have  been  some  kind 
of  power. 

The  ultimate  organizing  power  is  ONE  and  not  many. 

The  laws  of  thought  themselves  oblige  us  to  assume 
a  single  power.  It  is  the  ultimate  idea,  "  the  deepest, 
widest,  most  certain  of  all  facts."  Were  there  several 
powers  behind  the  primal  motion  and  matter,  they 
would  be  either  independent,  or  interdependent.  If 
the  former,  the  activities  of  each  would  be  wholly 
unaffected  by  the  activities  of  the  rest,  with  the  result 


98  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

of  a  number  of  universes  absolutely  unrelated.  In 
which  case,  as  we  should  never  be  able  to  learn  of 
their  existence,  they  would  be,  so  far  as  we  were  con- 
cerned, non-existent.  We  should  be  left  in  our  own 
universe  with  a  single  independent  power  as  its  source. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  the  several  powers  behind  the 
frame  of  things  were  interdependent,  that  is  depend- 
ing on  one  another,  one  and  all  of  them  would  be  parts 
of  a  common  organization,  and  as  a  consequence, 
subject  to  the  control  of  the  organization.  The  ulti- 
mate source,  therefore,  would  be  not  in  the  several 
forces,  but  in  the  organization  to  which  they  belonged. 
Instead  of  a  number  of  powers  we  are  thus  led  back 
to  a  single  power. 

Behind  all  things  is  one  thing,  and  that  one  thing 
is  a  power. 

Out  of  this  issue  two  consequences. 

1.  Since  all  things  are  controlled  by  a  single  power, 
there  is  nothing  beyond  its  control,  either  in  space, 
or  time,  and  that  beyond  which  there  is  nothing  in 
space  or  time,  is  both  infinite  and  eternal. 

2.  Since  all  things  in  space  and  time  are  controlled 
by  this  power,  the  beginnings  of  all  things  are  under 
its  control.    It  is  therefore,  not  only  the  ruler,  but  the 
source,  the  creator,  the  cause,  of  all  things. 

By  a  single  infinite  and  eternal  energy  or  power, 
the  universe  has  been  created,  and  is  controlled. 

This  creator  and  controller  of  all  things,  is  a  power  of 
LIFE. 

Many  have  held  that  the  world  force  is  machine 
force,  that  the  universe  is  a  vast  engine,  a  complicated 
piece  of  mechanism,  running  automatically. 


THE  POWER  BEHIND  THE  SOUL  29 

By  a  machine,  we  mean  "a  number  of  individual 
particles  associated  together  in  producing  some 
definite  result." 

In  order  to  do  its  work,  to  produce  its  definite 
result,  the  machine  must  move,  and  no  matter  what  the 
motive  power  applied,  whether  steam,  water,  wind, 
electricity,  or  a  man's  hand  or  foot,  the  motions 
resulting  are  always  either  rotary,  vibratory,  rectil- 
inear, or  a  combination  of  these.  Such  movements 
are  taking  place  at  every  instant,  in  every  part  of 
the  known  world,  and  so  far  they  mark  the  world  as  a 
machine.  There  is,  however,  something  more  in  the 
world  than  mechanical  movements  of  repetition. 
Everywhere  there  is  development,  evolution,  growth. 
Combine  all  forms  of  mechanical  motion,  rotary,  vibra- 
tory, rectilinear,  as  intimately  and  as  skilfully  as  you 
may,  still  you  will  not  get  growth  out  of  them.  Yet 
growth  pervades  the  universe,  and  as  it  is  a  movement 
neither  produced,  nor  producible  by,  any  known 
mechanical  law,  it  indicates  that  the  universe  is 
something  more  than  a  piece  of  mechanism. 

Growth  is  a  sign  of  life.  Things  that  grow  are  liv- 
ing things.  The  universe  contains  living  things,  vast 
numbers  of  living  things,  from  which  it  would  seem 
to  follow  that  the  universe  producing  power  must  be 
itself  alive,  for  it  is  inconceivable  that  a  power  not 
itself  alive,  could  produce  a  universe  teeming  with  life. 

Furthermore,  there  is  in  the  universe  not  life  merely, 
but  conscious,  intelligent  life.  Consequently  the  life  of 
the  universe  producing  power  must  be  conscious  and 
intelligent. 

At  the  back  of  everything  is  one  thing,  and  that 
one  thing  is  a  power  of  conscious  intelligent  life. 

This  is  the  primal  truth  the  soul  discovers  about 
the  universe  in  which  it  dwells. 


30  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

Goodness  Rules. 

The  infinite  and  eternal  power  of  conscious  intelli- 
gent life  is  a  power  of  goodness.  Goodness  rules. 

First.  Because  there  is  more  good  than  evil  in  the 
world. 

Observation  discloses  that  in  the  mingled  mass  of 
the  world's  good  and  ill,  there  is  a  predominance  of 
good. 

A  study  of  the  newspapers  might  lead  to  the  oppo- 
site conclusion.  The  exigencies  of  modern  journalism 
require  that  the  story  of  a  crime  should  be"  displayed," 
while  a  deed  of  kindness  is  relegated  to  an  obscure 
paragraph.  Pessimism  is  fashionable,  and  the  pessi- 
mist has  been  described  as  one  who, having  a  choice  of 
two  evils,  takes  both.  Distinguished  authors  support 
this  attitude.  The  world  of  a  Hardy,  or  a  Wells,  is  a 
place  in  which  righteousness  occupies  a  back  seat. 

Undoubtedly  they  have  ground  for  gloom.  A  stag- 
gering amount  of  misery  meets  the  eye  in  every  direc- 
tion. The  total  of  evil  bulks  large,  still,  an  impartial 
survey  of  the  actual  state  of  things  will  convince  us, 
that  the  total  of  good  bulks  larger. 

We  must  bear  in  mind,  that  appearances  to  the 
contrary  notwithstanding,  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
unmixed  evil. 

Black  though  the  following  examples  be,  their 
blackness  is  not  wholly  unrelieved. 

"An  ignorant  mother  puts  her  baby  into  a  cooling 
cookstove  to  keep  the  infant  warm  while  she  leaves 
the  house.  The  father  comes  home  unacquainted 
with  the  circumstances,  lights  the  fire,  and  roasts  the 
child. 

"Afireman,  heroic  to  save  life,  is  trapped  at  the  top 
of  a  burning  building,  the  roof  hydrant  of  which  he 


THE  POWER  BEHIND  THE  SOUL  31 

has  climbed  to  open,  seeks  escape  by  the  nearest 
electric  cable,  and  is  dashed  eight  stories  to  the 
frozen  ground. 

"A  healthy,  happy,  young  creature  on  a  gala  day 
takes  the  train  that  is  foredoomed  to  collision,  and 
for  thirty,  forty,  fifty  years,  an  invalid  upon  a  mat- 
trass  grave,  lies  staring  at  the  walls  of  a  coffin  room 
and  mutters,  'Why?' 

"A  motherless  girl,  too  young  for  the  knowledge  of 
the  tree  of  good  and  evil,  errs  for  love,  and  her 
broken  life  sinks  into  a  nameless,  unforgiven,  irre- 
claimable shame,  which  finds  no  respite  till  it  finds 
the  grave. 

"A  child  born  without  eyesight,  speech,  or  hearing, 
lives  to  be  a  very  old  person  and  patiently  passes 
out  of  existence."  [North  Am.  Rev.  May,  1893.] 

While  evils  such  as  these  are  among  the  realities 
of  life,  they  are  not  the  only  realities. 

Death  by  suffocation  in  the  cookstove  was  not  the 
only  incident  in  the  baby's  short  career.  Contact  with 
warm  surfaces,  the  absorption  of  nourishment,  the 
free  movements  of  legs  and  arms,  had  thrilled  the 
tiny  frame  countless  times  with  sensations  of  content. 

Nor  were  the  mental  anguish  they  endured,  and 
the  sickening  manner  of  their  loss,  the  only  experiences 
of  the  mother  and  father.  What  they  had  lost,  they 
had  previously  possessed,  and  they  had  known  the 
satisfaction  of  possession.  Unnumbered  hours  of 
happiness  had  been  spent  together  in  watching  over 
and  caring  for  their  offspring.  Every  evening  as  the 
father  drew  near  his  cottage,  a  sense  of  pleasure  came 
over  him,  and  more  pleasure  awaited  him  on  arrival. 
How  much  complacency  he  had  felt  in  being  master  of 
a  house,  in  slowly  accumulating  the  fittings  and  the 
furniture,  and  what  a  triumph  was  his  when  finally  he 


32  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

brought  home  the  pretty  girl  who  had  become  his 
wife! 

During  the  half  hour  preceding  his  death,  the  fire- 
man was  experiencing  probably,  one  of  the  keenest 
joys  possible  to  human  nature,  the  successful,  vic- 
torious, exercise  of  physical  and  mental  faculties,  the 
exhilaration  of  being  first  in  his  place  as  the  fire 
wagon  tore  out  of  the  station  and  down  the  street, 
the  excitement  of  anticipation,  the  exaltation  of  the 
hero  who  faces  danger  and  realizes  that  he  is  con- 
quering, subduing,  overcoming,  all  before  him.  At 
such  moments  the  breath  of  heaven  is  on  his  brow. 

At  each  instant  of  her  existence  up  to  the  time  of 
the  collision,  the  "healthy,  happy,  young  creature" 
was  enjoying  health,  happiness,  and  youth.  Even  in 
the  long  subsequent  years  no  day  passed  without 
some  gleam  of  sunshine.  A  welcome  visitor,  a  sym- 
pathetic friend,  a  fragrant  cup  of  tea,  a  new  and 
fascinating  story,  the  lighting  of  the  lamps,  and 
blessed  intervals  when  pain  was  stilled. 

All  the  after  sufferings  of  the  motherless  girl  grew 
out  of  an  ecstasy,  out  of  an  excess  of  unregulated  joy, 
and  among  the  bitter  after-sufferings  there  were  the 
delights  of  adornment,  and  of  dress,  devoted  friend- 
ships with  others  as  unfortunate  as  herself,  friend- 
ships which  lasted  till  the  end,  mutual  charities,  the 
pleasures  of  a  good  meal,  and  later  on,  the  solace  of 
drink.  Even  in  the  hospital,  in  the  final  weeks  of 
gathering  feebleness,  there  was  the  sense  of  being 
the  centre  of  attention,  and  the  comfort  of  long 
unaccustomed  cleanliness,  renewed. 

To  the  child  born  blind,  and  deaf,  and  dumb,  mere 
existence  means  not  only  blindness,  deafness,  and  the 
inability  to  speak,  but  also  the  daily  repeated  satis- 
faction of  assimilation,  of  digestion,  and  of  appetite 


THE  POWER  BEHIND  THE  SOUL  33 

appeased.  Pleasure  came  as  well,  from  the  harmoni- 
ous sensation  of  things  soft  and  smooth,  the  con- 
sciousness of  perfume  and  of  taste.  Never  having 
known  sight,  or  hearing,  it  is  difficult  to  understand 
how  they  could  be  missed,  or  how  the  want  of  them 
could  be  felt  as  an  evil.  That  when  age  came,  he 
passed  patiently  away,  is  evidence  of  experiences 
which  at  least  made  life  endurable. 

Here  then  is  a  second  class  of  actualities,  and  this 
class  has  one  quality  in  common.  All  these  things, 
namely  appetite  appeased,  freedom,  content,  affec- 
tion, pride  in  achievement,  exultation,  successful 
activity,  health,  youth,  friendship,  delightful  tastes 
and  smells,  are  good. 

Furthermore,  not  only  is  all  evil  mingled  with  good, 
but  in  certain  circumstances  the  evil  appears  greater 
than  it  is.  While  all  is  not  gold  that  glitters,  neither 
is  all  that  looks  like  suffering  wholly  painful. 

C.  A.  Benson  tells  of  a  man  who  in  his  mature 
years  lost  his  sight.  To  outward  seeming  his  state 
was  one  of  unrelieved  misery,  yet  a  closer  acquaint- 
ance disclosed  an  existence  of  extraordinary  richness, 
and  undreamed  of  joy. 

Most  people  can  multiply  such  instances  out  of 
their  own  experiences. 

One  would  think  there  would  be  little  to  mitigate 
the  situation  in  which  a  man  finds  himself  when  in 
the  power  of  a  fierce  and  savage  animal.  Yet  such 
evidence  as  we  possess  indicates  that  the  situation 
is  not  quite  so  bad  as  it  looks. 

"It  is  curious,"  writes  Lord  Playfair  [Memoirs 
p.  374]  "that  there  are  two  people  here,  the  Turkish 
Ambassador  Rustem  Pasha,  and  Sir  Edward  Brad- 
ford, who  have  been  maimed  by  wild  beasts.  The 
latter  had  the  whole  of  his  left  arm  up  to  the  elbow 


34  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

joint  munched  by  a  tiger,  and  the  Turkish  Ambassa- 
dor has  half  the  right  hand  and  part  of  his  left,  torn 
away  by  a  bear.  Both  tell  me  that  they  felt  no  pain 
during  the  mutilation,  and  they  suppose  that  their 
intense  desire  to  defend  themselves  prevented  them 
from  feeling  pain.  Livingstone,  the  African  traveller, 
told  me  the  same  thing,  that  when  his  arm  was 
munched  by  a  lion  he  could  not  recollect  suffering 
any  pain." 

What  in  appearance  could  be  more  agonizing  and 
utterly  miserable,  than  the  situation  of  a  wounded 
soldier  left  without  medical  aid  on  the  battle  field? 
Lieut.'  Sakurai  of  the  Japanese  army,  had  his  right 
leg  broken  and  both  arms  shot  through,  at  one  of  the 
assaults  on  Fort  Arthur,  and  remained  on  the  sun 
scorched  slopes  for  two  days  and  nights.  Yet  so  long 
as  he  continued  under  nature's  kindly  care  he  suffered 
little.  The  pain  began,  he  writes,  only  when  human 
methods  were  brought  to  bear. 

"  I  did  not  feel  any  pain  at  all  during  the  two  days 
I  was  lying  on  the  field,  but  oh!  the  pain  I  began  to 
feel  when  I  was  taken  to  first  aid,  and  bandaged,  the 
agony  I  then  felt  was  so  great  that  I  wished  I  had 
died  on  the  field." 

Mrs.  Oliphant  thus  describes  the  Putney  hospital 
for  incurables. 

"Someone  has  called  this  place  the  palace  of  pain. 
I  do  not  doubt  the  truth  of  the  title.  Yet  I  have 
gone  through  the  greater  part  of  these  rooms  filled 
with  indescribable  aches  and  sufferings,  that  are  with- 
out hope  in  this  world,  and  I  have  found  nothing  but 
a  patient  quietness,  a  great  tranquility,  a  peace,  that 
fills  the  careless  spectator  coming  in  out  of  the  fresh 
air,  out  of  the  sunshiny  world  where  everything  is 
rejoicing  in  life  and  strength  and  the  radiance  of  the 


THE  POWER  BEHIND  THE  SOUL  35 

morning,  with  awe  and  respectful  reverence.  Some 
of  these  poor  people  are  never  free  from  pain,  some  are 
subject  to  periodic  paroxysms  of  anguish,  one  scarce 
over  before  another  begins,  many  are  helpless  and 
cannot  move  at  all  even  by  the  nurse's  aid,  and  yet 
there  is  peace  breathing  all  around  us,  a  composed 
and  mild  endurance  often  accompanied  with  smiles, 
scarcely  ever  with  a  countenance  of  gloom.  An 
atmosphere  of  cheerfulness  fills  like  sunshine  the 
quiet  chambers.  What  struggles  there  may  be  in 
lonely  hearts  and  tortured  bodies,  it  is  not  ours  to 
enquire.  Such  struggles  there  must  be,  or  the  suf- 
ferers would  be  more  than  human.  But  we  can  see 
only  patience  and  peace.  This  is  more  wonderful 
than  the  pain  and  far  less  comprehensible.  Our 
hearts  cry  out  for  them  as  we  pass  from  one  bed  of 
anguish  ,to  another,  but  from  these  beds  there  rise 
no  cries. 

All  is  tranquility,  patience,  a  great  quietness.  The 
palace  of  pain  is  also  the  House  of  Peace." 

See  the  accounts  of  the  Messina  earthquake,  by 
Professor  Lombroso  and  Mr.  Robert  Hichins  (too 
long  for  quotation  here).  They  relate  instance  after 
instance  in  which,  although  the  outward  circumstance 
indicated  terrible  agonies,  no  agonies  were  felt. 

Let  any  one  inclined  to  the  view  that  misery  out- 
balances happiness,  read  the  letters  of  R.  L.  Stevenson, 
himself  a  life  long  invalid;  especially  vol.  1,  pp.  437- 
442. 

The  foregoing  considerations  bring  home  to  us,  that 
in  attempting  to  arrive  at  a  just  estimate  of  their 
relative  proportions,  we  should  bear  in  mind,  that 
while  it  may  be  possible  to  exaggerate  the  amount 
of  good  in  any  situation,  it  is  also  possible  to  exag- 
gerate the  amount  of  evil.  Moreover,  a  considerable 


36  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

amount  of  the  pain  we  encounter  makes  for  our  wel- 
fare. 

a.  The  agonies  of  the  operating  theater,  the  hos- 
pital, and  the  dental  chair,  excruciating  as  these  in 
themselves  may  be,  tend  to  conditions  of  comfort 
and  freedom  from  pain. 

b.  Various  forms  of  suffering  lead  to  a  strengthen- 
ing of  character. 

"There  is  some  soul  of  goodness  in  things  evil 
Would  men  observingly  distil  it  out." 

On  many  occasions  men  do  distil  it  out.  Poets  learn 
in  suffering  what  they  teach  in  song.  Not  until  the 
death  of  Arthur  Hallam  had  wrought  upon  the  mind 
and  heart  of  Tennyson,  was  "In  Memoriam"  pro- 
duced. Hawthorne's  genius  grew  in  narrow  and  sor- 
rowful surroundings,  we  must  believe  in  large  measure 
because  of  those  surroundings,  and  brought  forth  some 
of  the  most  delicate  and  original  literary  work  yet 
produced  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic.  Had  Thackeray 
not  lost  his  fortune,  he  might  never  have  been  more 
than  an  amateur  art  critic.  Josiah  Wedgewood's  leg  is 
amputated,  and  he  can  no  longer  stand  at  the  potter's 
wheel.  The  enforced  leisure  liberates  his  mind,  and 
he  invents  the  Wedge  wood  ware.  Speaking  of  his 
hard  life  as  a  tutor  in  Richmond,  Channing  said, 
"I  look  back  on  those  days  of  loneliness  and  frequent 
gloom,  with  thankfulness."  Is  it  not  sorrow  that 
gives  us  our  capacity  for  laughter? 

"Alas  by  some  degree  of  woe 
We  every  bliss  must  gain, 
The  heart  can  ne'er  a  transport  know 
That  never  felt  a  pain." 


THE  POWER  BEHIND  THE  SOUL  37 

c.  We  benefit  by  all  sacrificial  suffering.  Not  be- 
cause pain  is  itself  good,  but  because  only  through 
pain  can  the  highest  happiness  be  reached.  James 
Hilton  affirms  that  to  make  the  most  excruciating 
tortures  tolerable,  it  is  only  necessary  that  the  sufferer 
should  be  convinced  that  he  suffers  for  a  worthy  end. 

"Dulce  et  decorum  est  pro  patria  mori." 

A  child  dies  of  diphtheria.  Who  notices  the  obscure 
and  common  ending  of  his  life?  A  Dr.  Rabbeth  dies 
of  the  same  disease,  as  a  result  of  attempting  to  save 
the  child  by  sucking  the  poison  from  the  patient's 
throat,  and  we  place  a  tablet  to  his  memory. 

"It  should  be  the  aim  of  social  advance  to  reduce 
as  much  as  possible,  all  pain  that  is  not  sacrifice,  in 
order  that  sacrificial  pain  may  shine  forth  as  the 
crowning  glory  to  which  character  can  attain." 

To  sum  up.  In  no  case  is  evil  unmixed.  In  cer- 
tain cases  it  appears  greater  than  it  actually  is.  A 
good  deal  of  pain,  if  not  itself  beneficial,  leads  to 
benefit.  Finally,  it  is  only  through  suffering,  the 
suffering  of  sacrifice,  that  human  nature  can  reach 
the  highest  levels  of  its  possible  development. 

In  judging  the  situation  ought  we  not  to  take  these 
considerations  into  account?  If  we  do  take  them 
into  account,  though  a  formidable  volume  of  evil 
remains,  is  there  real  ground  for  thinking  it  can  be 
as  large,  or  anything  like  as  large,  as  the  total  amount 
of  good?  That  good  outweighs  evil,  is  indicated 
further,  by  the  continued  existence  of  societies  of 
human  beings. 

Society  implies  the  rule  of  morality.  The  mortar 
which  holds  the  social  edifice  together  is  composed 
of  the  ten  commandments.  Even  primitive  society, 
even  the  tribes  of  central  Africa,  hold  together  only  in 


38  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

so  far  as  they  compel  a  reasonable  observance  of  these 
principles, 

As  almost  the  entire  surface  of  the  globe  is  occupied 
by  people  who  are  organized  into  social  communities, 
resting  on  a  basis  of  social  morality,  it  seems  clear 
that  however  large  the  amount  of  depravity  in  these 
communities,  goodness  preponderates. 

The  vast  majority  of  those  with  whom  we  come  in 
contact  are  respectable  people.  While  their  virtue 
may  not  be  of  a  shining  quality,  it  outweighs  their 
vice  sufficiently  to  give  them  the  stamp  of  decent 
folk,  and  among  this  predominating  mass  of  mediocre 
goodness,  there  are  more  saints  and  heroes  than  is 
sometimes  imagined. 

The  fireman,  ready  to  dash  into  the  flames.  The 
policeman,  courting  danger  and  death  in  his  daily 
round  of  duty.  The  life-boat  sailors,  who  face 
appalling  storms.  The  locomotive  engineer,  who  with 
steady  nerve  and  lion  heart,  stays  with  a  sure  hand 
the  destruction  which  threatens  his  human  freight. 
The  trained  nurse,  who  runs  a  thousand  risks.  The 
physician,  who  goes  with  equanimity  where  deadly 
diseases  lurk.  In  the  slums,  a  host  of  consecrated 
workers  spend  unnoticed  lives  among  the  miserable 
and  the  poor.  In  countless  obscure  homes  there  are 
women  whose  quiet  existence  is  a  blessing  to  all 
around  them,  and  men  untrumpeted  by  fame  who  are 
models  of  courage  and  chivalrous  devotion. 

The  predominance  of  good  is  corroborated  by  the 
fact  that  most  of  us  regard  life  as  our  supreme  pos- 
session. Whatever  the  exceptional  man  may  do, 
the  average  man  enjoys  himself  to  an  extent  that 
causes  him  to  set  a  high  value  on  existence.  Many 
of  us  are  handicapped  with  disabilities,  mental, 
bodily,  material,  nevertheless  we  are  not  willing  to 


THE  POWER  BEHIND  THE  SOUL  39 

give  up  the  ghost.  We  are  not  longing  for  the  end  to 
come.  We  take  many  precautions  to  stave  off  the 
end.  We  try  to  hide  the  appearance  of  age,  we  dread 
to  see  the  first  gray  hairs. 

If  life  be  good  to  the  average  man;  if,  that  is,  the 
average  life  be  good,  it  can  only  be  because  there  is 
a  preponderance  of  good  in  life  as  a  whole. 

Although  the  preponderance  of  good  be  true  of 
the  human  race,  does  not  the  ceaseless  struggle  for 
existence  forbid  the  idea  of  its  being  true  of  the 
animal  world? 

The  marks  of  nature's  cruelty  and  treachery  are 
plain  on  every  hand,  she  is  "red  in  tooth  and  claw," 
we  are  told.  "Every  robin  chirping  on  the  holly", 
writes  Frances  Power  Cobbe,  "has  been  a  parricide, 
every  cuckoo  filling  the  April  woods  with  soft  sound, 
has  been  a  fratricide." 

"What  terrible  and  prolonged  agony,  what  tortur- 
ing suspense,"  exclaims  Huxley,  "must  the  deer 
suffer  pursued  by  the  wolf.  He  feels  the  enemy  is 
gaining  on  him  with  every  step,  that  a  fearful  death  is 
slowly  but  surely  drawing  near." 

"  Few  sights  are  more  calculated  to  stir  the  sympa- 
thetic breast  than  the  writhings  of  the  cloven  worm. 
If  any  creature,  lacking  a  voice,  yet  proclaimed  to 
heaven  its  agony,  this  is  it." 

In  order  to  subserve  some  remote  advantage  to  the 
_race,  nature  sacrifices  ruthlessly  millions  of  lives. 

All  this  sounds  tragical  enough,  but  on  what  does 
it  rest?  The  sole  ground  for  assuming  that  animals 
suffer  in  the  way  described,  is  that  their  feelings  are  the 
same  as  ours.  For  such  an  assumption  there  is  not 
the  slightest  evidence.  To  speak  of  robins  and  cuckoos 
as  parricides  and  fratricides,  may  be  rhetoric,  but  is 
certainly  not  truth.  The  terms  are  applicable  only 


40  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

to  those  who,  knowing  what  death  is,  and  knowing  the 
significance  and  sacredness  of  fatherhood  and  brother- 
hood, and  knowing  also  that  murder  is  a  sin,  do  not- 
withstanding, slay  father  and  brother.  Who  will 
affirm  that  even  one  of  these  conditions  exists  in  the 
case  of  robins  and  cuckoos?  That  the  deer  makes 
strenuous  efforts  to  escape  the  wolf,  does  not  prove 
that  the  deer  is  aware  of,  and  anticipates  with  horror, 
its  impending  doom.  Any  one  who  has  tried  to  catch 
a  skittish  colt,  or  a  young  Texas  steer,  on  the  unfenced 
prairie,  knows  that  they  will  make  an  equally  des- 
perate effort  to  escape,  whether  your  object  be  to  send 
them  to  the  butcher,  or  to  give  them  a  feed  of  corn  in 
a  comfortable  stable. 

"We  must  keep  in  mind  that  these  creatures  while 
endowed  with  more  than  man's  quickness  of  eye  and 
ear,  have  infinitely  less  than  man's  powers  of  imagin- 
ation. That  the  tenants  of  the  land  and  water 
flourish  exceedingly,  notwithstanding  their  constant 
liability  to  attack  by  enemies,  proves  that  they  endure 
none  of  the  mental  agonies  to  which  we  under  like 
conditions  should  be  subject,  but  pass  their  lives  in 
unsuspecting  enjoyment.  Instead  of  sending  forth 
her  children  to  be  ever  harrassed  by  painful  appre- 
hensions, nature  weaves  for  them  a  protective  mantle 
of  mimicry,  and  weak  things  wear  their  fears  in  mani- 
fold broidery  of  plumage,  and  hair,  and  scale,  upon 
their  backs,  instead  of  in  their  hearts." 

[H.  H.  Higgens.] 

As  for  the  cloven  worm,  a  recent  writer  remarks, 
"I  suspect  a  good  deal  of  sympathy  has  been  wasted 
on  the  cloven  worm.  I  am  led  to  this  opinion  by  the 
heartless  conduct  of  the  front  end,  which  usually 
disappears  down  the  hole.  While  the  hinder  part  is 


THE  POWER  BEHIND  THE  SOUL  41 

enduring  the  tortures  of  the  rack,  the  other  part 
exhibits  about  as  much  discomfort  or  concern  as  the 
end  of  a  freight  train  which  has  broken  a  coupling. 
Now,  it  may  be,  that  one  end  of  an  earth  worm  is  a 
delicate  high-strung  creature,  and  the  other  a  cal- 
loused brute.  It  is  however  very  much  more  likely 
that  neither  half  has  the  least  suspicion  that  any- 
thing is  wrong.  The  front  end  crawls  off,  because  it 
is  a  front  end  and  can  crawl.  The  rear  end,  lacking 
the  usual  attachment,  can  only  go  through  the  mo- 
tions of  dragging  itself  up  to  the  advancing  front. 
There  is  really  not  the  least  evidence  that  the  mental 
states  of  the  worm,  if  it  had  any,  are  in  the  least 
degree  altered,  when  it  is  cut  in  two,  or  strung  on  a 
hook.  It  would  be  possible  to  multiply  indefinitely 
anecdotes  of  animals  showing  their  indifference  to 
pain.  We  are  apt  to  forget  that  in  spite  of  evolution, 
there  is  still,  between  ourselves  and  the  lower  animals 
a  great  gulf  fixed.  Whatever  may  have  bridged  that 
gulf  once,  the  gulf  is  there  now,  and  we  only  make 
ourselves  ridiculous  when  we  refuse  to  see  it." 

[E.  T.  Brewster.] 

"  I  feel  sure, "  says  Alfred  Russell  Wallace,  "that  the 
appearance  of  pain  in  the  lower  animals  is  often 
deceptive.  The  only  true  guide  to  the  evolutionist, 
is  a  full  and  careful  consideration  of  the  amount  of 
necessity  there  exists  in  each  group  for  pain  sensation 
to  have  been  developed. 

"It  depends  fundamentally  on  utilities  of  life  saving 
value,  as  required  for  the  continuance  of  the  race. 
Failure  to  take  this  into  consideration  results  in  the 
ludicrously  exaggerated  view,  adopted  by  men  of 
such  calm  judgment  as  Huxley,  a  view,  almost  as 


43  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

far   removed   from   fact   or   science,    as   the   purely 
imaginary  dogma  of  the  poet, 

"The  poor  beetle  that  we  tread  upon 
In  corporal  sufference  feels  a  pang  as  great 
As  when  a  giant  dies." 

"Whatever  the  giant  may  feel,  if  the  theory  of 
evolution  be  true,  the  poor  beetle  certainly  feels  an 
almost  irreducible  minimum  of  pain,  probably  none 
at  all." 

Up  to  the  moment  of  dissolution  the  joy  of  life  for 
every  creature  below  the  human  race  is  probably 
unclouded.  That  the  struggle  for  existence  is  an 
agonizing  one,  is  a  figment  of  the  scientific  imagina- 
tion, due  to  projecting  into  the  animal  world  feelings 
exclusively  human.  We  know  how  we  should  feel, 
and  imagine  the  animals  feel  likewise,  but  this  is 
absurd,  for  were  we  to  live  like  animals,  we  should 
be  miserable,  while  they  flourish,  proving  that  the 
gamut  of  their  sensations  is  a  very  different  one  from 
ours.  As  Mill  somewhere  says,  dirt  is  not  uncomfort- 
able except  to  those  who  are  unaccustomed  to  it. 

The  contention  of  the  votaries  of  woe  is  not  borne 
out  by  the  observed  conditions.  In  the  animal,  as 
in  the  human  world,  evil  is  outweighed  by  good. 
This  receives  further  support  from  a  fact  which 
sometimes  fails  of  the  recognition  it  deserves. 

Evil  is  outweighed  by  good,  that  is  to  say,  good 
prevails  in  the  world,  for  the  reason  that  beauty 
prevails. 

None  will  deny  that  the  world,  as  a  whole,  is 
beautiful.  A  branch  quivers,  a  blossom  sways,  a 
breeze  sweeps  the  surface  of  the  lake,  water  falls 
over  the  cliff,  day  dawns,  fruit  ripens,  every  move- 


THE  POWER  BEHIND  THE  SOUL  43 

ment,  every  process,  is  marked  by  fitness,  grace. 
When  nature  stirs,  there  is  a  concord  of  line,  and 
mass,  and  tint,  and  tone. 

"Thou  canst  not  wave  thy  staff  in  air, 

Or  dip  thy  paddle  in  the  lake, 
But  it  carves  the  bow  of  beauty  there, 

And  the  ripples  in  rhymes  the  oar  forsake." 

Even  in  her  sterner  manifestations,  the  belching 
crater,  the  roaring  torrent,  the  lightning's  flash,  the 
upspringing  flame,  the  storm's  dark  rush,  nature  is 
seen  clothed  in  splendor  and  magnificence.  Regions 
of  dread  exist,  parched  deserts,  blizzard  swept  ice 
fields,  malarial  swamps,  but  their  acreage  forms  no 
more  than  a  fraction  of  the  total.  They  are  as  the 
mole  on  Aphrodite's  cheek,  the  one  discordant  meas- 
ure in  the  orchestration  of  the  symphony. 

Objects  and  places  which  seem  bare  of  every 
element  of  loveliness  and  altogether  loathsome,  as 
for  example,  the  prisoner's  cell,  the  noisome  vault, 
the  offal  heap,  have  but  to  be  examined  with  vision 
reenforced  by  the  microscope,  and  all  is  changed. 
The  hard  stone  of  wall  and  roof  becomes  a  mosaic  of 
gem  like  crystals,  the  slimy  fungus  growths  are  seen 
to  be  in  reality,  forests  and  groves  of  graceful  vege- 
tation, the  decaying  flesh  vanishes  and  in  its  place 
are  cell  like  structures  radiant  with  all  the  colors  of 
the  rainbow.  A  lens  reveals  loveliness  even  in  a 
maggot.  Men  of  science  tell  us  there  is  nothing 
intense  light  will  not  make  beautiful. 

This  holds  true  of  the  realm  of  life,  as  of  physical 
nature.  The  dragon  fly  flashing  his  jewelled  body 
across  the  lake,  the  soaring  bird,  the  crouching  tiger, 
grazing  cattle,  the  stag  drinking  at  the  tarn,  trout 


44  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

poising  in  the  pool,  throughout  animated  nature, 
richness  of  color,  ease  of  action,  strength  and  sym- 
metry, are  in  evidence.  These  qualities  are  scarcely 
less  conspicuous  in  the  human  race.  Man  is  a  fair 
and  comely  creature  when  he  permits  nature  to  have 
her  way  with  him.  "Here  as  among  most  savages," 
writes  Dr.  A.  R.  Wallace  in  his  "Malay  Archepelago," 
"I  was  delighted  with  the  beauty  of  the  human 
form,  a  beauty  of  which  stay-at-home  people  can 
scarcely  have  any  conception." 

In  spite  of  many  shadows  and  much  that  is  repellent, 
the  general  aspect  of  the  world  is  unquestionably 
beautiful.  This  general  loveliness  of  aspect  would  be 
impossible  did  not  loveliness  preponderate.  Mineral, 
vegetable,  animal,  human,  each  has  its  characteristic 
mark,  but  the  universal  mark,  stamped  on  all,  is 
beauty.  Beauty  is  the  significant  thing,  the  world's 
crowning  quality. 

A  universe  in  which  there  is  a  predominence  of 
beauty,  must  have  been  brought  forth  by,  and  must 
be  sustained  by,  a  beauty  loving  power,  and  it  is 
surely  inconceivable  that  a  beauty  loving  power 
should  be  other  than  a  power  of  goodness.  That 
beauty  is  the  expression  of  goodness,  will  appear  more 
clearly,  if  we  keep  in  mind,  that  in  the  realm  of  life, 
beauty  is  associated  invariably  with  health. 

Every  one  will  agree  that  the  glowing  cheek,  the 
sparkling  eye,  the  upright  carriage,  are  beautiful,  and 
they  are  qualities  of  health.  A  horse  in  first  rate 
condition,  full  of  fire,  and  with  glossy  coat,  is  one  of 
the  handsomest  creatures  imaginable,  and  the  points 
that  constitute  his  handsomeness  are  all  evidences  of 
health. 

At  an  horticultural  exhibition  one  sees  a  collec- 
tion of  unusually  lovely  blossoms,  and  their  unusual 


THE  POWER  BEHIND  THE  SOUL  45 

loveliness  is  due  to  the  fact  that  every  one  of  them 
has  been  selected  as  a  blossom  in  perfect  health. 
If  we  want  beautiful  men,  women,  animals,  flowers, 
trees,  we  seek  healthy  men,  women,  animals,  flowers, 
and  trees.  If  there  be  any  loveliness  in  a  living 
creature  stricken  with  disease,  it  is  only  in  so  far  as 
it  retains  a  remnant  of  life  and  health. 

Since  beauty  and  health  are  synonymous,  and  since 
beauty  in  the  world  of  life  everywhere  is  in  the 
ascendant,  it  would  seem  inevitably  to  follow  that 
in  the  world  of  life,  health  also  everywhere  is  in  the 
ascendant. 

That  existence  among  living  creatures  must  be  on 
the  whole  healthy,  appears  a  reasonable  conclusion, 
else  how  could  life  continue? 

No  doubt  there  are  deplorable  facts  to  be  accounted 
for,  the  victims  of  tuberculosis,  cancer,  malaria,  pneu- 
monia, etc.;  the  host  of  those  who  are  physically 
unfit,  the  blind,  the  deaf,  the  lame.  A  little  reflection 
however,  will  convince  us  that  after  all,  the  number 
at  any  one  time  under  the  doctor's  care,  cannot  be 
more  than  a  small  fraction  of  the  population.  It  is 
certain  that  were  it  otherwise,  the  mills  would  shut 
down,  the  railroads  cease  to  run,  weeds  would  flourish 
in  place  of  wheat  and  corn.  The  fact  that  industry 
thrives  is  proof  that  on  the  whole,  and  with  the 
exception  of  a  small  minority,  our  people  are  in 
a  condition  of  vigorous  life  and  health.  It  is  not 
of  course  for  a  moment  contended  that  the  sanitary 
state  of  the  nation  is  all  that  can  be  desired,  far 
from  it.  What  is  meant  is,  that  conditions  of  health 
preponderate.  It  may  be  said  without  exaggeration 
that  most  people  experience  in  the  course  of  their 
lives  more  well  days  than  ill  days. 

Although  much  physical  and  mental  disease  exists, 


46  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

it  is  not  enough  to  affect  the  general  truth  of  the 
statement,  that  since  the  world  of  life  is  a  world  in 
which  the  dominant  quality  is  beauty,  it  is  a  world  in 
which  the  dominant  quality  is  health. 

Health  signifies  freedom  from  pain,  suffering,  dis- 
comfort. The  currents  of  life  pulse  through  our 
arteries  in  a  full  tide,  we  experience  a  sense  of  buoy- 
ancy, we  feel  w 

Health  therefore  is  a  condition  of  well  being.  It  is 
a  joyful,  pleasant,  happy  condition.  Health  and 
happiness  go  together,  are  inseparable,  are  the  same 
thing.  A  healthy  state  is  everywhere  a  happy  state, 
and  it  is  not  to  be  denied  that  a  happy  state  is  a  good 
state. 

Consequently,  since  happiness  is  equivalent  to  the 
good,  and  since  it  has  been  shown  that  beauty  and 
therefore  health,  and  therefore  happiness,  is  the  domi- 
nant quality  of  the  realm  of  life,  it  follows  that  the 
good  also  is  the  dominant  quality  of  the  realm  of  life. 

Thus  the  witness  of  beauty  confirms  the  conclusion 
reached  by  general  observation,  namely,  that  there  is 
more  good  than  evil  in  the  world.  It  unites  with 
the  results  of  general  observation  to  demonstrate  not 
only  that  there  is  more  good  than  evil,  but  an  immense 
preponderance  of  good  in  the  world. 

A  power  capable  of  producing  a  universe  in  which 
there  is  an  immense  preponderance  of  good,  must 
itself  be  good. 

The  truth  of  this  is  proved  by  the  nature  of  evil. 
Evil  is  pain,  pain  is  always  evil.  Pain  is  the  poison, 
the  sinister  element.  Whether  the  event  be  a  wound, 
disease,  accident,  misfortune,  sorrow,  crime,  whether 
it  be  voluntary  or  involuntary,  physical,  or  mental, 
or  moral,  the  element  of  evil  therein,  is  the  pain 
produced. 


THE  POWER  BEHIND  THE  SOUL  47 

Objections  considered. 

Certain  experiences  seem  difficult  to  reconcile  with 
the  above  statement. 

1.  Some    evils    appear    devoid   of   pain:     blindness 
for   instance. —  Do    we    regard   blindness    as    devoid 
of  pain?     On  the  contrary,  we  judge  it  to  be  evil 
just  because  to  an  intelligent  living  creature,   loss 
of    sight    always    means    misery.     Mental    diseases 
producing   coma,   automatism,    unconsciousness,   re- 
sult in  a  condition  in  which  the  subject  is  immune 
from   pain,   yet  we  reckon  these  diseases  as  evils. 
We  do  so,  not  because  they  bring  immunity  from 
pain,  but  because  of  the  agony  preceding  the  immu- 
nity.    Moreover,    in    diseases    of    this    kind,    others 
besides  the  subjects  themselves  are   affected.     The 
mental  affliction  of  one  we  have  loved,  causes  suf- 
fering to   a  circle    perhaps   a   very   wide  circle,   of 
friends. 

2.  Evils  that  are  pleasureable. —  Many  people  find 
opium  and  chloral  delicious,  and  alcoholic  intoxica- 
tion delightful.     It  is  not  the  pleasure  these  things 
give  that  is  evil.    So  long  as  pleasure  is  the  sole  result 
of  their  use,  these  things  are  not  deleterious.     They 
become  so,  they  do  harm,  they  are  evil,  just  in  so  far 
as  in  spite  of  their  joy  giving  properties,  they  involve 
pain  to  ourselves  and  others. 

Is  not  sin  or  moral  delinquency  evil?  Yet  many 
sins  are  not  painful  but  on  the  contrary  wholly 
pleasant.  The  point  to  keep  in  mind  is,  that  it  is 
not  the  pleasure  to  ourselves  that  makes  the  act 
sinful,  immoral,  but  the  pain  it  gives  to  others.  If 
we  could  have  the  pleasure  without  hurting  anyone 
else,  no  wrong  would  be  done.  An  immoral  act  is 
one  in  which  we  inflict  pain  on  others,  in  order  to 
enjoy  some  pleasure  or  profit  ourselves.  The  moral 


48  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

iniquity,  the  sin,  is  not  our  enjoyment  of  the  pleasure 
or  profit;  pleasure  and  profit  are  in  themselves  always 
good;  a  pearl  is  still  a  pearl  though  it  adorn  a  harlot's 
neck;  the  sin  is  in  our  willingness  to  enjoy  pleasure 
or  profit,  at  the  cost  of  suffering  to  others. 

8.  Pains  that  are  beneficial. —  For  example,  excru- 
ciating surgical  or  dental  operations  may  be  agonizing, 
yet  of  advantage.  How  then  can  such  pains  be  evil? 
The  benefit  these  things  accomplish  is  accomplished 
in  spite  of  the  pain.  In  so  far  as  they  are  painful  they 
are  evil. 

Some  pain  strengthens  and  purifies.  The  pain  of 
punishment,  for  instance.  Some  poisons,  as  strych- 
nine, heal  disease  when  administered  medicinally; 
but  in  these  cases  the  instrument  of  healing  remains 
itself  a  deadly  thing.  The  poisonous  medicine  cures 
by  arousing  the  reserve  forces  of  physical  nature. 
The  poison  of  pain  cures  by  arousing  the  reserve  forces 
of  the  soul. 

In  the  pain  of  punishment,  the  purpose  is  to  quicken 
the  reserves  of  moral  energy.  The  culprit  is  stirred 
into  a  condition  of  active  repentance  and  reform,  and 
is  made  a  new  man.  Nevertheless,  the  pain  which 
brings  about  this  highly  beneficial  state,  is  itself  evil, 
and  if  continued  too  long,  or  administered  in  too 
large  doses,  would  result  in  the  destruction,  instead 
of  in  the  reformation  of  the  subject. 

The  sooner  we  outgrow  the  necessity  for  using 
poison  and  pain,  the  sooner,  that  is,  we  reach  a  con- 
dition of  mental  and  physical  health,  the  better. 

As  things  are,  our  present  imperfect  state  compels 
us  to  make-shift  with  these  imperfect  remedies.  Nor 
is  it  likely  that  in  doing  so  we  are  going  far  astray, 
for  the  Creator  himself  inflicts  a  certain  amount  of 
pain  upon  all  sentient  creatures. 


THE  POWER  BEHIND  THE  SOUL  49 

4.  Even  when  associated  with  virtue,  pain  is  still  an 
evil. —  A  morally  good  action  may  necessitate  pain, 
but  it  is  not  the  pain  that  constitutes  the  moral  good- 
ness, the  virtue.  Under  all  circumstances  pain  is 
evil.  The  moral  excellence  consists  in  willingness 
to  endure  the  evil  of  pain,  in  order  to  promote  a 
greater  good  to  our  neighbor. 

Jim  Bludsoe  held  the  burning  steamer's  "nozzle 
agin  the  bank  till  the  last  soul  got  ashore,"  and  him- 
self perished  in  the  flames.  The  excellence  of  the 
deed  we  so  much  admire,  was  not  in  the  agony  experi- 
enced, but  in  the  hero's  willingness  to  suffer  the 
agony  for  the  sake  of  his  fellow  men. 

Morality  does  not  change  the  nature  of  evil,  it 
changes  only  our  attitude  toward  it  on  particular 
occasions. 

On  particular  occasions  our  sense  of  moral  obliga- 
tion bids  us  forego  advantage  to  ourselves,  lest  we 
inflict  pain  on  others,  and  endure  pain  ourselves,  if 
thereby,  we  can  benefit  others. 

In  moral  situations  as  in  all  situations,  evil  is  pain, 
pain  is  always  evil. 

The  nature  of  pain. 

Pain  is  the  outcome  of  defect,  it  is  a  state  of  im- 
perfection, of  defective  or  imperfect  health. 

It  is  accompanied  always  by  lowered  vitality,  and 
lowered  vitality  is  characteristic  of  ill  health.  If 
inflammation  shows  increased  vital  activity  at  one 
particular  spot,  it  is  at  the  expense  of  the  system  as 
a  whole. 

Although  a  patient  suffering  from  some  forms  of 
insanity  may  be  endowed  with  the  strength  of  ten, 
and  with  a  restless  energy  weli  nigh  insatiable,  this 


50  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

cannot  be  regarded  as  an  addition  to  the  vital  powers. 
Rather  is  it  due  to  the  removal  by  disease  of  normally 
restraining  conditions,  which  removal  permits  the 
vital  energies  to  expend  themselves  violently  and 
irregularly.  Such  headlong  and  wasteful  expenditure 
of  force  implies  no  real  gain  to  the  total  volume  of 
force,  but  on  the  contrary,  a  distinct  impairment  of 
the  general  stock.  This  applies  also,  to  the  seemingly 
increased  vital  action  induced  by  the  pain  of  whip 
and  spur. 

Under  all  circumstances  lowered  vitality  goes  with 
pain,  and  lowered  vitality  signifies  lowered  health. 
Being  a  state  of  lowered  vitality,  pain  therefore,  is 
a  state  of  lowered,  defective,  or  imperfect  health. 

Since  evil  is  pain,  it  follows  that  evil  also,  is  a  state 
of  defect  or  imperfection,  a  state  of  defective  or 
imperfect  health. 

From  this,  what  appears  a  conspicuous  exception 
leaps  to  view.  Positive  and  aggressive  acts  of  wicked- 
ness. This  kind  of  evil  must  be,  it  would  seem,  some- 
thing more  than  imperfection.  It  looks  as  if  the  evil 
of  sin  were  due  to  an  independent  force  antagonistic 
to  good. 

The  burglar  fells  the  inconvenient  householder  with 
a  blow  on  the  head.  The  assassin  drops  his  victim 
with  a  revolver  shot.  These  are  sinful  deeds,  and 
they  are  deeds  of  power,  they  exhibit  positiveness, 
and  forceful  skill.  Othello,  in  the  play,  beside  himself 
with  jealousy,  slays  Desdemona.  An  act  of  violence 
involving  tremendous  effort  and  a  fierce  and  furious 
exercise  of  strength. 

Nevertheless,  is  it  not  possible  for  an  event  to  be 
positive  and  forceful  in  itself,  and  at  the  same  time 
relatively  weak  and  negative,  exhibiting  relatively, 
a  lack  of  force,  an  imperfection  of  power? 


THE  POWER  BEHIND  THE  SOUL  51 

For  instance  the  report  of  a  rifle  is  positive  enough 
in  itself,  forceful,  sharp,  and  ear  piercing.  Yet  com- 
pared with  the  report  of  a  twelve  inch  gun  the  crack 
of  a  rifle  is  a  weak,  puny,  imperfect  kind  of  explo- 
sion. 

Regarded  as  isolated  events,  the  acts  of  the  burglar 
and  assassin  are  manifestations  of  power.  The  ele- 
ment of  loss  or  imperfection  does  not  appear. 

Regarded  as  activities  of  men,  they  assume  a  dif- 
ferent aspect.  What  they  represent  as  human  deeds, 
can  be  estimated  only  by  comparing  them  with 
human  energies  as  a  whole.  How,  then,  do  these 
particular  deeds  stand,  when  compared  with  the  total 
amount  of  activity  possible  to  the  individuals  con- 
cerned? 

In  the  case  of  Othello,  the  murder  of  Desdemona 
necessitated  the  expenditure  of  much  energy.  This, 
however,  was  not  the  only  course  of  action  open  to 
Othello.  He  might  have  refrained  from  murdering 
Desdemona.  Why  did  he  not  refrain?  There  is  only 
one  imaginable  explanation.  It  was  harder  to  re- 
frain than  to  yield  to  his  passion.  Great  as  was  the 
effort  demanded  by  the  murder,  to  refrain  from  the 
murder  demanded  a  still  greater  effort.  To  hold  his 
hand  required  an  exercise  of  self  control  so  severe, 
that  Othello  shrank  from  making  the  effort.  Finding 
it  easier  to  yield  to  the  impulse  of  passion  than  to 
control  the  impulse,  Othello  yielded.  Immense  as 
was  the  energy  expended  in  committing  the  crime,  it 
was  less  than  the  energy  he  would  have  had  to  expend 
in  refraining  from  the  crime. 

The  same  is  true  of  the  burglar  and  assassin.  They 
could  have  led  decent  lives  and  been  good,  industrious 
citizens,  but  such  a  course  required  an  exercise  of  self 
denying  will  they  found  it  hard  to  make.  To  prey 


52  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

upon  society,  to  drift  down  the  stream  of  vagrancy, 
or  to  sweep  along  in  the  furious  current  of  revenge 
and  hate,  was  easier  than  to  make  head  against  the 
flood. 

The  sinful  acts  in  the  examples  cited  sprang  from 
an  effort  of  the  will  weaker  and  feebler  than  it  might 
have  been,  and  ought  to  have  been. 

In  every  instance  sin  is  due  to  a  defective  or  im- 
perfect action  of  the  will,  for  which  we  are  respon- 
sible and  to  blame. 

Like  all  other  evil,  the  evil  of  sin  is  a  form  of  imper- 
fection. 

In  what  way  does  this  affect  the  subject  under 
discussion,  namely,  the  goodness  of  the  Controller  of 
the  universe? 

It  affects  it  to  the  extent  of  barring  out  evil  alto- 
gether from  the  nature  of  the  Controller. 

The  infinite  and  eternal  power  of  life  whence  all 
things  proceed,  is  in  every  respect  supreme  and 
omnipotent,  for  there  is  none  to  dispute  its  rule,  no 
rival  to  contest  its  sway. 

Absolutely  free  and  untrammelled,  whatever  limi- 
tations its  activities  assume,  whatever  modifications 
they  adopt,  are  self  assumed  and  self  adopted. 

Originating  and  controlling  as  it  does  all  things 
and  all  powers,  it  possesses  all  things  and  all  powers. 

As  a  consequence  it  falls  short  of,  and  is  lacking 
in,  nothing. 

An  existence  absolutely  free,  nowhere  hindered  or 
thwarted,  falling  short  of,  and  lacking,  nothing,  is 
one  in  which  every  function  fulfills  itself  and  every 
quality  manifests  itself,  in  the  highest  degree  of  which 
its  nature  permits,  and  such  an  existence  embodies 
the  idea  contained  in  the  word  perfection.  The  exist- 
ence of  the  infinite  and  eternal  Producer  and  Con- 


THE  POWER  BEHIND  THE  SOUL  53 

troller  of  all  things,  is  perfect  existence.  From  this 
it  follows,  that  in  the  nature  of  the  Infinite  and 
Eternal,  there  can  be  no  evil,  for  evil  is  imperfect 
existence. 

The  character  of  evil  itself,  therefore,  both  con- 
firms the  conclusion  drawn  from  the  preponderance 
of  good,  and  carries  that  conclusion  a  step  further. 
We  now  see  that  the  world  Controller  being  free  from 
imperfection,  and  so  completely  free  from  evil,  is  in 
consequence,  good,  not  merely  to  a  predominating 
extent,  but  altogether  and  absolutely  good.  In  the 
soul's  universe  a  power  of  perfect  goodness  rules. 

3.  The  place  of  evil  in  the  scheme  of  things. — If  good- 
ness rule,  how  account  for  the  evil  that  actually  exists? 

To  many  it  seems  vain  to  talk  of  a  righteous  and 
kindly  Providence  in  view  of  the  appalling  amount  of 
misery  visible  on  every  hand.  Can  disasters  and 
calamities  happen  and  the  supposed  ruler  and  author 
of  nature  still  be  merciful,  and  just  and  good?  How 
are  these  seemingly  irreconcilable  facts  to  be  recon- 
ciled? Some  attempt  to  explain  evil  as  a  delusion. 
It  is  a  phantom  and  has  no  existence,  they  say.  The 
most  brilliant  refutation  of  this  extraordinary  fallacy 
is  probably  the  well  known  essay  by  Mark  Twain, 
and  to  this  the  reader  is  referred.  Another  solution 
of  the  paradox  has  been  attempted  on  the  ground  of 
indifference.  Preoccupied  with  the  creation  and 
control  of  myriad  worlds,  why  should  we  suppose  the 
Lord  of  the  universe  to  be  other  than  heedless  of  our 
microscopic  woes?  Forgotten  by  God,  it  is  inevitable 
that  we  should  fall  a  prey  to  evil.  The  reply  is, 
indifference  to  suffering  is  incompatible  with  even  a 
moderate  amount  of  goodness,  still  less  with  the  power 
of  perfect  goodness  by  which  we  have  assumed  the 
universe  to  be  ruled. 


54  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

Some  have  sought  to  account  for  evil  by  imputing 
it  to  a  hostile  power.  The  world  is  divided  between 
two  rival  and  co-equal  divinities,  an  Ormuzd  and  an 
Ahriman,  who  carry  on  unceasing  warfare.  This 
theory  is  inadmissible,  giving  to  creation  as  it  does, 
a  double  origin,  and  placing  it  under  a  two-fold  regime, 
a  notion  at  odds  with  the  accepted  principle  of  science 
that  the  universe  is  a  single  organized  whole,  con- 
trolled by  a  single  supreme  power. 

Another  doctrine  ascribes  the  source  of  evil  to  an 
antagonistic  and  independent,  but  not  co-equal 
power.  A  fallen  angel,  a  satan,  a  devil,  who  while 
maintaining  temporary  hostilities  is  in  the  end  des- 
tined to  be  vanquished  and  destroyed.  This  idea  has 
the  advantage  of  leaving  the  supreme  power  intact. 
Its  defect  is  lack  of  evidence.  There  is  nothing  to 
show  that  it  is  true. 

A  less  extravagant  supposition  will  suffice  to  account 
for  all  the  ill  there  is. 

No  other,  or  rival,  power  being  possible  as  the  source 
of  evil,  the  Infinite  and  Eternal  is  its  source.  Since 
it  can  be  due  neither  to  the  weakness,  nor  the  error, 
nor  the  indifference,  it  must  be  due  to  the  purpose 
and  intention,  of  the  Infinite  and  Eternal.  Since  the 
Infinite  and  Eternal  is  absolutely  good,  the  fact  we 
face  is,  that  all  the  evil  in  the  universe  has  its  source 
in  the  purpose  and  intention  of  the  absolutely  good. 

"I  form  the  light  and  create  darkness.  I  make 
peace  and  create  evil.  I  the  Lord  do  all  these  things." 

[Isaiah  45,  7] 

What  are  we  to  make  of  such  a  situation?  That 
good  and  evil  should  issue  from  the  same  source 
appears  to  some  minds  beyond  comprehension. 

"To  present  God  as  the  responsible  cause  of  the 


THE  POWER  BEHIND  THE  SOUL  55 

enormity  of  suffering  and  of  moral  evil,  and  at  the 
same  time  to  present  him  as  the  perfect  impersona- 
tion of  justice  and  love,  should  by  this  time  be  seen 
to  involve  a  hopeless  contradiction,  the  conflict  of 
two  principles  in  irreconcilable  antagonism,"  writes 
G.  H.  Howison. 

[Hibbert  Journal.] 

Notwithstanding  the  formidable  tone  of  this  assev- 
eration; that  God  is  responsible  for  all  suffering,  that 
whatsoever  misery  there  be,  exists  not  in  spite  of,  but 
because  of,  his  power,  is  the  conclusion  to  which  we 
are  forced  alike  by  reason,  experience,  and  observa- 
tion. There  is  no  rational  alternative.  So  far  from 
containing  a  "hopeless  contradiction,"  or  principles 
"in  irreconcilable  antagonism,"  this  is  the  only  con- 
clusion free  from  contradictions  and  antagonisms. 

Do  not  the  plain  facts  of  life  bear  witness  that  good 
and  evil  constantly  issue  from  an  identical  source? 
Good  people  inflict  evil  out  of  their  very  goodness. 
Every  physician,  every  magistrate,  every  commander, 
imposes  suffering,  hard  work,  perilous  enterprises, 
upon  his  fellow  creatures.  Every  prison,  reformatory, 
operating  theater,  is  the  scene  of  human  suffering 
prescribed  by  benevolent  and  kindly  beings. 

One  of  the  most  pathetic  sights  the  present  writer 
ever  saw  was  the  children's  ward  of  a  certain  great 
hospital.  The  diseases  under  treatment  were  chiefly 
those  of  the  spine.  On  every  side  lay  pitiful  little 
objects,  some  bound  hand  and  foot,  others  stretched 
at  full  length,  with  weights  attached.  The  feet  of 
several  were  clamped  in  rack-like  machinery,  none 
could  move,  or  sit  up,  or  play,  or  see  anything  save 
the  bare  white  walls.  "  Here  indeed,"  the  visitor  from 
another  planet  might  exclaim,  "is  proof  of  the  in- 


56  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

herent  fiendishness  of  man."  Appearances  would 
justify  his  gloomy  inference.  Yet  we  know  how  far 
from  the  truth  the  inference  would  be.  Were  he  to 
penetrate  beneath  appearances,  he  would  discover  all 
this  misery  to  be  the  outcome,  not  of  malevolence  or 
cruelty,  but  of  a  devotion,  a  care,  a  forethought,  a 
tenderness  little  short  of  heavenly. 

In  examples  such  as  these,  we  do  actually  see  evil 
and  good  issuing  from  a  common  source  of  goodness. 
Coming  from  such  a  source,  evil  possesses  a  certain 
mark  and  character. 

Whatever  be  the  nature  of  the  suffering  inflicted 
by  good  men  and  women,  always  and  everywhere, 
with  no  exception,  its  impelling  motive  is  one  of  benev- 
olence. Pain  may  be  imposed,  intense  suffering  may 
result,  still  the  intention  is  benevolent,  the  purpose 
remedial. 

If  this  be  true  of  the  evil  permitted  and  inflicted 
by  the  imperfect  goodness  of  men  and  women,  still 
more  must  it  be  true  of  the  evil  permitted  and  inflicted 
by  the  perfect  goodness  of  the  Infinite  and  Eternal. 

Since  evil  issuing  from  good  has  invariably  a  benev- 
olent and  remedial  intent,  and  since  all  the  evil  in 
the  universe  issues  in  the  last  resort  from  the  perfect 
goodness  of  the  Infinite  and  Eternal,  all  the  evil  in 
the  universe  is  of  the  kind  which  is  freighted  with 
benevolent  and  remedial  intent. 

"The  clouds  which  rise  in  thunder,  slake 

Our  thirsty  souls  with  rain. 
The  blow  most  dreaded,  falls  to  break 

From  off  our  limbs  a  chain. 
And  wrongs  of  man  to  man  but  make, 

The  love  of  God  more  plain. 
As  through  the  shadowy  lens  of  even 
The  eye  looks  farthest  into  heaven, 


THE  POWER  BEHIND  THE  SOUL  57 

On  gleams  of  star  and  depths  of  blue, 
The  glaring  sunshine  never  knew." 

Whittier. 

From  this  general  truth  there  is  an  obvious  excep- 
tion. In  the  suffering  caused  by  sin,  in  the  misery 
thrust  upon  us  by  human  carelessness,  indolence, 
viciousness,  we  have  a  form  of  evil  issuing,  not  from 
a  benevolent,  but  from  a  malevolent,  source.  Its 
motive  instead  of  being  remedial,  is  either  indifferent 
to  consequences,  or  positively  cruel  and  malignant. 

Black  as  the  fact  of  sin  is,  its  most  baleful  effects 
are  neutralized  by  the  peculiar  relations  which  exist 
between  the  sinner  and  his  surroundings. 

The  doer  of  evil  lives  in  a  universe  stronger  than 
himself.  Consequently,  while  he  is  able  to  deter- 
mine his  own  intentions,  he  cannot  determine  any- 
thing else.  The  initial  impulse,  he  may  make  as 
malevolent  as  he  chooses,  but  he  is  powerless  to  make 
the  outcome  malevolent.  The  moment  an  evil  im- 
pulse leaves  his  mind  and  becomes  embodied  in  a 
deed,  it  falls  into  a  sphere  beyond  his  range  of  in- 
fluence. From  that  moment  his  control  over  what 
has  left  him,  is  lost. 

Now  the  universe  into  which  the  evil  impulse  falls 
is  one  governed  by  good,  one  in  which,  as  we  have  seen, 
all  suffering  and  pain  is  of  the  kind  that  comes  from 
goodness,  of  the  kind  therefore,  that  makes  for  the 
ultimate  welfare  of  the  sufferer.  When  the  malevo- 
lent impulse  passes  from  the  wrong-doer's  mind,  and 
enters  as  action  into  the  universe,  the  universe  closes 
round  it,  so  to  speak.  From  that  instant,  it  ceases 
to  be  suffering  issuing  from  the  sinner,  and  becomes  a 
part  of  the  suffering  which  issues  from  the  universe. 
Thereupon  its  character  is  changed.  No  longer  evil 


58  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

produced  by  evil,  it  becomes  evil  produced  by  good; 
—  by  the  good  universe. 

In  spite  of  the  sinner's  malevolent  intent,  the 
misery  he  seeks  to  inflict  falls  into  line,  and  instead 
of  ruining,  will  be  found  in  the  long  run  to  have 
helped  his  victim. 

Joseph  is  left  at  the  bottom  of  a  dry  cistern  to  perish 
of  hunger  and  thirst.  That  is  the  cruel  intention. 
The  result,  utterly  unlocked  for,  is  that  he  becomes 
ruler  of  Egypt. 

A  treacherous  friend  blasts  Silas  Marner's  reputa- 
tion and  forces  him  out  upon  the  world  apparently  a 
ruined  man.  The  traitor's  intention  was  malevolent. 
He  succeeded  in  inflicting  agonising  pain  upon  his 
victim.  The  outcome,  nevertheless,  was  very  different 
from  that  which  malevolence  desired.  The  suffering 
contributed,  not  to  the  destruction  of  Silas,  but  to 
his  regeneration. 

"So,  almost  without  a  pause  between,  he  (the 
Major)  had  prayed  for  a  hell  to  punish  a  crime,  and 
for  the  safety  of  the  treasured  thing  that  was  its 
surviving  record,  a  creature  that  but  for  that  crime 
would  never  have  drawn  breath." 

["Somehow  Good",  Wm.  de  Morgan] 

It  is,  of  course,  but  here  and  there  that  we  are  able 
to  discern  the  issue.  Could  we  trace  to  their  ultimate 
destination  the  series  of  consequences  that  follow 
our  misdeeds,  we  should  find  that  always  for  our 
victims,  they  lead  at  last  to  good.  What  else  is  to 
be  expected?  The  moment  the  evil  impulse  leaves 
the  limited  circle  in  which  we  rule,  it  enters  a  region 
where  the  forces  behind  it  are  the  wholly  benevolent 
and  omnipotent  forces  of  the  eternal.  The  wicked 
man  can  originate  independently,  but  he  cannot 


THE  POWER  BEHIND  THE  SOUL  59 

execute  independently.  The  consequences  of  his  vile 
purposes  are  beyond  his  control,  and  by  the  marvel- 
lous alchemy  of  the  universe  the  actions  he  intends 
shall  promote  evil,  are  transmuted  to  the  service  of 
the  world. 

Such,  unquestionably,  will  be  the  result  for  the 
victim,  the  case  of  the  sinner  is  likely  to  be  very 
different.  "It  must  needs  be  that  offences  come,  but 
woe  to  that  man  by  whom  the  offence  cometh." 
The  sinner  does  what  nothing  else  ever  does,  he  acts 
with  malevolence.  Of  malice  aforethought  he  adds 
to  the  sum  of  pain,  and  although  for  his  victim  the 
beneficence  of  the  world  will,  in  the  end,  neutralize 
the  malicious  intention,  the  sinner's  guilt  remains. 
He  intends  malevolence,  and  thus  introduces  discord 
into  the  harmony  of  things,  disturbs  the  universal 
order,  pits  himself  against  the  universe,  attempts  to 
resist  the  irresistible.  The  issue  is  not  doubtful. 
Unconditional  surrender  is  the  sinner's  solitary  hope. 

To  the  truth  that  all  the  evil  in  the  world  is  of  the 
kind  that  comes  from  goodness,  and  promotes,  in  the 
long  run,  the  welfare  of  the  sufferer,  there  is  but  a 
single  exception,  namely,  the  evil  of  sin,  and  that  is 
an  exception  only  as  regards  the  sinner  himself. 

Evil  is  the  consequence  of  the  capacities  with  which  we 
are  endowed. 

The  immediate  and  efficient  causes  of  sorrow  lie  in 
ourselves.  The  world  does  us  no  harm.  Harm  comes 
from  our  misuse  of,  and  misunderstanding  of,  the 
world. 

The  sole  sources  of  pain  are  the  imperfections  of 
our  knowledge  and  our  morals.  Ignorance  and  selfish- 
ness are  the  breeders  of  ill.  For  the  evil  we  endure, 


60  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

God  is  responsible  to  the  extent  that  he  has  created 
us  imperfect. 

Why  has  he  created  us  imperfect?  Apparently, 
because  that  is  the  only  way  in  which  we  could  be 
created.  Since  the  Creator  himself  is  perfect,  and 
since  all  created  things  are  less  than  their  creator, 
all  created  things  are  of  necessity,  less  than  perfect. 

We  suffer,  not  merely  because  we  are  imperfect, 
but  because  we  are  imperfect  human  beings,  with 
souls,  possessed  of  sensibilities.  Because  we  hope, 
love,  desire. 

"Had  we  never  loved  sae  kindly, 
Had  we  never  loved  sae  blindly, 
Never  met  and  never  parted, 
We  had  ne'er  been  broken  hearted." 

From  these  sad  sensations  we  might  have  been 
saved  had  we  been  placed  lower  down  in  the  scale, 
endowed  with  vegetable,  instead  of  with  human 
natures.  Yet,  most  of  us  feel  that  salvation  on  such 
terms  is  scarcely  worth  while.  Not  even  to  get  rid 
of  a  toothache  would  we  be  turned  into  a  potato. 

Still  another  course  is  imaginable.  Had  we  been 
placed  higher  up,  instead  of  lower  down,  created 
mature  from  the  start,  with  our  faculties  developed  to 
the  full,  and  working  in  undeviating  accord  with  their 
surroundings,  it  seems  as  though  we  should  have 
escaped  the  bitter  episode  of  pain.  Does  not  this 
motion  involve  a  contradiction?  We  are  conscious 
beings  with  all  the  wonderful  possibilities  this  implies. 
Now,  the  plan  above  suggested  might  be  fatal  to 
experience,  and  it  might  be  that  without  experience, 
consciousness  could  never  be  other  than  a  pale 
phantom  of  its  proper  self.  Like  children  learning  to 
walk,  we  learn  to  live,  and  while  we  learn,  we  trip  and 


THE  POWER  BEHIND  THE  SOUL  61 

fall,  and  bump  our  heads  against  the  corners  of  the 
world.  It  is  unpleasant,  but  if  it  be  the  only  way  to 
build  up  consciousness,  then,  the  temporary  liability 
to  pain  may  not  be  too  high  a  price  to  pay. 

"I  know  a  limped  stream  that  seeks  the  sea, 

Between  a  surge  of  sedges  fair  it  flows, 
With  scarce  a  ripple  stirring  its  repose, 

The  very  mirror  of  serenity. 
From  its  well  head  till  ocean  claims  its  fee, 

It  breasts  no  barrier,  daytime,  dawn,  or  close, 
Behold  it  still  the  same,  come  heat  or  snows, 

With  gentle  murmur  gliding  tranquilly. 

"Not  thus  would  I  move  outward  to  the  deep 
Toward  which  all  mortals  hasten,  with  no  bar 

To  overcome  before  I  gain  the  goal. 

Rather  would  I  on  some  stern  struggle  leap, 

Although  my  flesh  be  scored  with  wound  and  scar, 
Inuring  thus  the  fibre  of  my  soul." 

Once  more,  could  not  our  woes  have  been  avoided, 
while  retaining  our  human  faculties,  if  we  had  been 
placed  in  a  situation  like  the  following? 

"I  know  a  place,"  writes  T.  Van  Ness,  ''where  men 
do  not  smoke  nor  drink,  where  they  are  industrious 
and  orderly,  where  they  rise  on  time  and  go  to  bed  on 
time,  where  there  are  no  differences  of  rank  or  station, 
and  where  the  table  of  one  is  as  well  served  as  the 
table  of  the  other,  where  on  Sundays  in  the  most 
decorous  manner  they  one  and  all  go  to  religious 
service,  and  maintain  correct  behaviour,  taking  part 
in  unison  when  hymn  and  liturgy  are  announced. 
This  place  is  the  Colorado  Penitentiary  at  Canyon 
City.  Law  reigns  there.  It  is  the  law  of  compulsion, 
of  the  shot  gun.  No  personal  liberty  is  allowed." 


62  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

The  Creator  might  have  made  us  prisoners  in  a 
penitentiary.  Under  such  conditions  we  should  have 
been  exempt  from  the  greater  part  of  the  difficulties, 
troubles,  dangers,  that  now  beset  us.  We  should  have 
been  protected  from  all  those  sources  of  suffering 
caused  by  our  errors,  miscalculations,  and  ignorance. 
That  has  not  been  the  method.  Instead,  we  have 
been  clothed  with  sensibilities,  and  endowed  with 
liberty,  and  the  evils  we  encounter  are  the  conse- 
quences of  these  gifts. 

Although  our  sensibilities  and  our  liberty  are  the 
sources  of  all  our  woe,  they  are  the  sources  also,  of 
all  our  happiness.  This,  Shelley  discerned  when  he 
wrote : 

"Yet  if  we  could  scorn 

Hate  and  pride  and  fear, 
If  we  were  things  born, 

Not  to  shed  a  tear, 
I  know  not  how  thy  joy, 
We  ever  should  come  near." 

Heartrending  as  our  sufferings  often  are,  we  carry 
with  us  the  key  of  the  door  of  deliverance.  Pain  and 
sorrow  being  due  to  imperfection,  the  result  of  the 
immaturity  of  the  capacities  with  which  we  are  gifted, 
as  we  advance  in  wisdom  and  strength  of  will,  as  we 
come  to  be  more  and  more  nearly  "in  tune  with  the 
infinite,"  we  may  confidently  look  to  see  pain  and 
sorrow  forever  left  behind. 

Summarizing  the  foregoing  chapter. 

We  found  that  behind  all  things  is  one  thing,  and 
that  one  ihing  is  a  power  of  conscious  life.  Observa- 
tion indicates  and  the  witness  of  beauty  proves,  that 
in  spite  of  a  vast  amount  of  misery  the  good  in  the 


THE  POWER  BEHIND  THE  SOUL  63 

world  outweighs  the  evil.  From  which  the  inference 
follows  that  good  outweighs  evil  also,  in  the  power 
of  conscious  life  that  brought  forth  the  world.  A 
study  of  evil  itself,  led  to  the  conclusion  that  good 
not  only  outweighs  evil  in  the  nature  of  the  supreme 
power,  but  predominates  to  the  complete  exclusion 
of  it,  with  the  consequence  that  the  supreme  power 
is  wholly  and  altogether  good.  The  goodness  which 
rules  over,  and  in,  and  through  the  universe,  is  perfect 
goodness. 

This  ruling  goodness  is,  we  saw,  no  mere  passive, 
static,  quality,  but  an  infinite  and  eternal  energy. 
Its  relation  to  the  universe  is  therefore,  an  energetic, 
a  dynamic,  relation.  The  influence  exercised  is  one 
of  movement,  of  compelling  power,  of  driving  force. 

How  is  this  situation  to  be  interpreted?  It  would 
seem  as  though  there  could  be  but  one  interpretation. 
Behind  all  things  is  a  driving  force,  infinite  and  eter- 
nal. Consequently,  no  region,  no  spot,  escapes  its 
pressure.  The  pressure  is  exerted  not  only  at  every 
point,  but  at  every  point  it  is  exerted  through  every 
moment  of  time.  The  driving  force  exercising  this 
pressure,  is,  it  has  been  shown,  a  force  of  goodness. 
One  outcome  alone  is  conceivable  to  such  a  situation. 
Sooner  or  later,  all  things  and  all  beings,  will  be 
subject  to,  will  become  dominated  by,  this  irresistible 
energy  of  goodness,  with  the  result  that  whatever  is 
contrary  to  goodness,  will  be  expelled  from  all  things 
and  all  beings.  Goodness  will  occupy  every  nook  and 
cranny  of  the  kosmos,  will  pervade  every  fibre  of 
every  individual  soul. 


CHAPTER  V 

SOUL   AND    OVERSOUL 

In  his  "Farthest  North"  Nansen  tells  us  that  an 
Eskimo  will  always  leave  untouched  the  driftwood 
left  by  another  above  high  water  mark,  although  fuel 
is  more  precious  than  gold  and  often  enough  it  could 
be  appropriated  without  fear  of  detection. 

Landing  in  a  native  village  in  West  Africa,  Mary 
Kingsley  was  freely  given  the  use  of  a  new  house  for 
which  at  the  end  of  her  stay  the  owner  refused  to 
receive  any  remuneration,  on  the  ground  that  strangers 
should  be  housed  without  charge. 

Plainly  the  impelling  motive  in  these  instances  was 
a  feeling  about  right. 

All  the  great  travellers  and  explorers  bear  witness 
to  a  sense  of  right,  even  in  the  remotest  corners  of  the 
earth  and  among  nations  the  most  diverse.  Its  uni- 
versality is  confirmed  by  the  religions,  the  philoso- 
phies, the  literatures,  of  the  world  It  is  assumed 
by  our  educational,  legal,  and  commercial  systems. 
That  it  has  been  possible  to  establish  business  rela- 
tions with  even  the  wildest  tribes  is  proof  that  even 
the  wildest  tribes  have  a  moral  standard,  though  it 
may  be  a  different  one  from  ours,  and  hold  themselves 
under  an  obligation  to  keep  to  it. 

The  feeling  that  right  ought  to  be  done,  is  common 
to  humanity.  Were  any  one  to  admit  that  he  had  no 
such  feeling,  the  admission  would  stamp  him  who 
made  it  as  inhuman.  Manifesting  itself  in  varying 

64 


SOUL  AND  OVERSOUL  65 

degrees  in  different  individuals,  it  is  absent  in  none. 
Clearer  in  maturity  than  in  childhood,  more  strongly 
marked  among  civilized  than  among  savage  people, 
in  all  natures  that  are  human  it  exists. 

Present  everywhere,  it  is  the  same  everywhere. 
The  standard  may  differ,  the  outcome  may  differ, 
but  the  feeling  that  right  ought  to  be  done  is  identical, 
unchanging,  and  unchangeable.  A  greater  contrast 
could  scarcely  be  imagined  than  Gladstone's  moral 
attitude  toward  certain  subjects  at  succeeding  periods 
of  his  life.  In  1831,  as  an  Oxford  undergraduate,  he 
believed  he  was  pursuing  the  course  of  duty  in  vehe- 
mently opposing  the  Reform  Bill,  and  pleading  for 
the  continuance  of  slave  labor  in  the  West  Indies. 
Ten  years  afterward,  we  find  him  taking  an  entirely 
new  position  and  upholding  with  passion,  power, 
and  eloquence,  precisely  those  things  which  in  his 
earlier  days  he  had  regarded  as  full  of  peril.  Look- 
ing at  Gladstone's  conduct  superficially,  it  seems  as 
though  his  motive  had  veered  completely  round.  A 
closer  view  shows  that  on  the  contrary,  different  as 
were  his  lines  of  action,  the  underlying  impulse  re- 
mained the  same.  On  each  occasion,  his  endeavor 
was  to  carry  out  the  felt  obligation  that  right  ought 
to  be  done. 

The  unstable  element,  the  movable  section,  so  to 
speak,  consisted  in  the  varying  estimate  of  what 
constituted  the  particular  right  on  the  particular 
occasion.  This,  it  is  obvious,  may  change  every 
day,  even  every  hour  of  every  day,  without  affecting 
the  impression  that  whatever  the  right  be,  it  ought  to 
be  done.  Through  all  changes  this  remains  unchanged 
the  same  feeling  under  every  vicissitude.  It  is  a 
permanent  and  constant  quantity.  Everywhere,  and 
under  all  circumstances,  and  from  generation  to  gen- 


66  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

eration,  it  prompts  us  whenever  two  alternatives 
are  before  us  to  select  that  which  appears  to  be 
right. 

As  the  mariner's  compass  still  points  north,  though 
the  ship  shift  her  course  a  hundred  times,  so  the  com- 
pass of  our  souls,  however  often  we  shift  the  direction 
of  our  activities,  points  constantly  toward  the  right. 
It  will  be  conceded  by  almost  everybody,  that  in  this 
universal  and  permanent  feeling  there  is  a  quality 
of  authority.  We  are  conscious  that  we  ought  to  do 
right. 

Ought,  is  perhaps  the  most  significant  word  in  the 
language.  It  expresses  relationship  of  a  peculiar 
kind.  A  relationship  of  moral  obligation.  There  is 
not  the  slightest  compulsion,  and  yet  this  feeling  of 
ought,  of  moral  obligation,  wields  a  strange  authority. 
It  seems  to  lay  upon  us  a  claim  of  allegiance.  "To 
obey  me  is  your  duty,"  it  whispers,  and  in  our  hearts 
we  acknowledge  the  claim  is  just. 

"So  potent  is  its  sway, "says  Darwin, "that  man  is 
often  impelled  simply  by  the  deep  feeling  of  right  or 
duty,  to  sacrifice  his  life  in  some  great  cause."  He 
mentions  three  Patagonian  Indians,  who  preferred 
being  shot,  one  after  another,  to  betraying  the  plan 
of  their  companions  in  war. 

A  missionary  in  Madras,  called  upon  to  visit  a  dying 
leper,  and  regarding  it  as  his  duty  to  give  to  those  at 
the  point  of  death  the  kiss  of  peace,  hesitated  on  this 
occasion.  He  himself  was  a  Eurasian,  and  he  be- 
lieved that  to  Eurasians,  actual  contact  with  leprosy 
was  invariably  fatal.  He  turned  to  flee,  terrified 
at  the  situation,  but  his  sense  of  moral  obligation 
would  not  let  him  go.  Leaning  against  the  door- 
post he  wrestled  with  his  fears.  On  the  one  side, 
certain  contamination  with  resulting  death  in  slow 


SOUL  AND  OVERSOUL  67 

and  loathsome  form.  On  the  other,  the  convic- 
tion that  at  whatever  cost,  that  which  he  believed 
to  be  right  ought  to  be  done.  With  such  over- 
whelming authority  did  this  conviction  make  itself 
felt,  that  he  conquered  his  shrinking  flesh,  returned 
to  the  bedside,  and  though  trembling  with  dread, 
pressed  with  his  lips  the  swollen,  blackened  coun- 
tenance.* 

The  sovereignty  this  sense  of  duty  exercises  over 
our  minds  is  indicated,  also,  by  the  consequences 
which  ensue  when  we  shape  our  conduct  in  defiance 
of  its  bidding.  We  are  tormented  with  an  inward 
accusation  of  un worthiness.  We  recognize  that  the 
part  we  have  played  is  despicable. 

Every  year,  the  United  States  Treasury  receives 
thousands  of  dollars  from  correspondents  who  conceal 
their  names.  They  are  people  who  in  various  ways 
have  defrauded  the  revenue  and  wish  to  make  restitu- 
tion. An  examination  of  the  letters  on  file  at  the 
Treasury  would  convince  any  one  that  most  of  the 
contributors  are  sincerely  repentant  for  some  fraud 
on  the  government.  Rarely  does  any  sum  come  with- 
out an  explanatory  letter,  and  it  is  unusual  to  have 
any  name  signed.  Some  of  the  returns  are  trifling. 
One  poor  fellow  makes  restitution  for  two  loads  of 
wood  he  had  stolen  from  the  government  reservation, 
saying,  "let  him  that  stole  steal  no  more." 

No  one  except  themselves  was  aware  of  what  these 
people  had  done.  Yet,  so  powerful  was  the  demand 
of  the  sense  of  moral  obligation,  that  they  were  mis- 
erable until,  to  the  best  of  their  ability,  they  had 
atoned  for  their  wrong  doing. 

*  See,  Guy  de  Maupassant's  tale,  "The  Two  Friends." 


68  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

The  broad  fact  is,  that  human  beings  feel  themselves 
subject  to  an  authoritative  influence,  a  sense  of  ought, 
urging  them  toward  what  they  believe  to  be  right. 

Whence  does  this  influence,  this  sense  of  ought, 
derive  its  authority?  What  is  its  source? 

Some  writers  affirm  that  its  source  is  in  self  interest 
and  prudence.  Right  pays,  honesty  is  the  best  policy. 
Goodness  is  neither  more  nor  less  than  sound  worldly 
wisdom. 

That  many  good  deeds  are  due  to  the  prudence  of 
worldly  wisdom,  cannot  be  denied.  The  copper  king, 
or  the  oil  magnate,  endows  a  hospital  or  a  college, 
with  the  worldly  wise  purpose  of  gaining  thereby  social 
honors,  but  if  prudence  were  the  only  source  of  good 
deeds,  only  prudent  good  deeds  would  be  done, 
whereas,  there  are  many,  and  they  are  those  we  admire 
most,  which  are  the  opposite  of  prudent. 

Captain  Gates  drags  himself  from  the  storm  bat- 
tered tent,  out  to  death  in  the  cold  of  the  Antarctic 
night,  that  the  safety  of  his  comrades  may  not  be 
imperilled  by  the  burden  of  his  sick  body. 

Miss  Jewel  H.  Reed,  aged  seventeen,  student,  hav- 
ing escaped  from  her  burning  dormitory,  discovered 
that  two  girls,  probably  rendered  unconscious  by  the 
smoke,  had  been  left  in  an  upper  story.  She  deter- 
mined to  try  and  save  them.  Reentering  the  blazing 
house,  she  made  her  way  through  the  flame  and  smoke, 
and  succeeded  in  reaching  the  girls'  room,  but  a  fresh 
outburst  of  fire  cut  off  the  exit  and  she  was  burned 
to  death. 

A  mill  operative  lost  his  arm,  as  a  result  of  certain 
machinery  being  out  of  order.  "If  you  want  to  keep 
your  job,"  said  the  mill  owners  to  the  superintendent, 
"you  must  report  the  machinery  as  all  right,  else  we 
shall  have  to  pay  heavy  compensation." 


SOUL  AND  OVERSOUL  69 

The  superintendent  found  himself  up  against  a  try- 
ing proposition.  He  must  report  an  untruth  or  be 
summarily  dismissed.  He  was  a  middle  aged  man. 
It  was  hard  to  be  turned  out  into  the  world  at  his 
time  of  life.  Nevertheless,  he  chose  that  course,  lost 
his  job,  and  died  in  comparative  poverty. 

All  will  agree  that  the  impelling  motive  behind  these 
actions  was  a  feeling  of  ought,  of  duty,  a  sense  of  right. 
The  source  of  this  motive  could  not  be  prudence,  for 
the  actions  to  which  it  impelled  were  the  contrary 
of  prudent. 

We  see  then,  that  in  addition  to  good  deeds  done 
from  motives  of  worldly  wisdom,  there  are  good  deeds 
done  from  a  sense  of  right,  and  into  the  motive  of 
these,  the  element  of  prudence  does  not  enter. 

When  a  man  is  inspired  by  a  deep  sense  of  right,  he 
acts  without  regard  to  consequences.  In  the  cause 
of  justice  and  mercy  he  is  ready  to  fling  forethought 
to  the  winds,  and  risk  the  loss  of  worldly  possessions 
and  even  life  itself. 

In  such  cases,  it  is  said,  prudence  is  still  the  motive. 
The  self-forgetful  hero  who  thinks  nothing  of  conse- 
quences, does  so  only  in  appearance.  He  looks  to 
consequences  just  as  carefully  as  anyone  else,  but  the 
consequences  to  which  he  looks,  instead  of  being  in 
this  world,  are  in  the  next.  He  expects  to  be  rewarded 
in  heaven  for  his  righteous  conduct  on  earth. 

The  conviction  that  glory  awaits  the  hero  in 
another  world  undoubtedly  has  inspired  heroic  deeds. 
Can  it  be  said,  however,  that  the  inspiration  in  such 
instances  is  a  sense  of  right? 

With  the  vision  of  the  black  eyed  houris  of  paradise 
flaming  in  his  brain,  the  follower  of  the  Mahdi  hurls 
himself  upon  the  bayonets  of  the  British  square. 
Brave  as  the  deed  is,  if  the  joys  of  paradise  be  its 


70  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

inspiration,  its  motive  must  be  ascribed  to  a  hope 
of  gain,  rather  than  to  a  sense  of  moral  obliga- 
tion. 

On  the  other  hand,  so  profound  an  observer  of 
human  nature  as  Tolstoy,  bears  witness  that  a  man 
may  be  moved  not  by  hope  of  gain,  but  solely  by  a 
sense  of  right,  and  when  so  moved,  is  capable,  without 
any  expectation  of  reward  either  on  earth  or  in 
heaven,  of  as  complete  a  sacrifice  as  that  of  the  follower 
of  the  Mahdi. 

In  his  story, "  Divine  and  Human, "Svetlogoub,  the 
principle  character,  a  rich  young  man,  enjoys  life  to  the 
full.  At  last,  the  sight  of  the  people's  misery  awakens 
his  moral  sense.  So  great  does  he  feel  its  authority  to 
be,  that  he  is  impelled  thereby  to  devote  his  time  and 
money  to  philanthropic  purposes.  As  a  result  of 
helping  a  revolutionary  friend,  he  is  arrested,  and 
condemned  to  death.  By  revealing  to  the  govern- 
ment his  friend's  name,  he  himself  could  escape. 
The  temptation  is  almost  irresistible,  but  the  author- 
ity of  his  consciousness  that  right  ought  to  be  done 
is  strong  enough  to  enable  him  to  stand  firm,  and 
he  goes  to  his  execution  without  uttering  the  incrim- 
inating word. 

In  Svetlogoub's  case,  at  any  rate,  the  sense  of  moral 
obligation  by  which  he  was  impelled  cannot  have  had 
its  origin  in  self-interest,  for  he  surrenders  everything 
in  this  world,  and  has  no  faith  whatever  in  a  world  to 
come. 

Self  interest  is  the  source  of  many  good  deeds,  but 
not  of  the  good  deeds  inspired  by  a  feeling  of  duty,  of 
ought. 

If  the  feeling  about  right  does  not  arise  from  pru- 
dential motives  from  what  does  it  arise? 

It  arises,  say  some,  from  social  motives.    It  is  due 


SOUL  AND  OVERSOUL  71 

to  the  educative  influences  brought  to  bear  on  us  by 
Society. 

The  question  being  the  genesis  of  the  moral  sense, 
of  its  birth,  and  its  beginning,  this  theory  postulates, 
to  start  with,  a  state  of  society  in  which  morals  are 
as  yet  non-existent,  and  assumes  that  at  some  particu- 
lar moment  through  the  action  of  this  unmoral  society, 
morals  were  brought  forth. 

It  will  hardly  be  disputed  that  non-moral  societies 
are  moved  by  non-moral  motives;  motives,  that  is, 
which  have  no  reference  to  right  and  wrong.  It  will 
be  conceded  further,  that  all  human  motives  other 
than  those  connected  with  right  and  wrong,  may  be 
classified  as  motives  of  pleasure  and  pain,  "our  two 
sovereign  masters."  We  have  thus,  to  start  with,  a 
condition  of  society  the  moving  impulses  of  which 
are  those  of  pleasure  and  pain. 

What  kind  of  influences  can  a  society  so  moved, 
bring  to  bear  upon  its  individual  members?  It  can 
bring  to  bear  in  the  first  place,  the  influence  of  the 
whole  over  the  part,  of  the  greater  over  the  less,  of 
the  majority  over  the  minority,  of  the  stronger  over 
the  weaker,  the  influences  namely,  of  force,  of  com- 
pulsion. 

It  can  bring  to  bear  in  the  second  place,  influences 
which  operate  through  the  desire  for  pleasure,  the 
fear  of  pain;  that  is  to  say,  through  hope  of  reward 
and  the  dread  of  punishment,  through  bribery  and 
the  "big  stick." 

Force,  cupidity,  fear,  then,  are  the  instruments  an 
unmoral  society  has  it  in  its  power  to  use. 

It  is  reasonable  to  imagine  that  using  these  instru- 
ments with  relentless  severity,  a  certain  order  and 
discipline  might  be  secured.  The  strong  might  be 


72  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

able  to  bribe  and  flog  the  weak  into  submission  to  the 
rules  which  the  strong  ordained. 

For  the  coerced  masses  these  rules  might  become 
the  indisputable  law.  Such  a  social  organization 
might  be  orderly  and  obedient  to  a  very  high  degree; 
nevertheless,  the  order  and  obedience  would  be  those 
of  the  barracks  and  the  penitentiary.  The  discipline 
would  be  of  the  kind  maintained  by  the  whip  of  the 
master  over  a  gang  of  slaves. 

The  theory  we  are  discussing,  assumes  a  very 
different  result.  It  supposes  that  by  the  use  of 
these  social  instruments  a  feeling  of  right  and  wrong 
will  be  engendered.  That  in  time  the  coerced  masses 
would  come  to  obey  because  of  a  consciousness  that 
they  ought. 

If  only  these  social  influences  be  continued  long 
enough  it  is  said,  the  result  will  be  a  moral  sense. 

Yet  surely  it  is  self-evident  that  these  expectations 
are  groundless.  "From  such  materials,  a  million 
years  will  no  more  generate  a  conscience,  than  they 
will  raise  a  cedar  of  Lebanon  from  a  chalk  stone." 

In  what  imaginable  way  can  the  social  influences 
of  compulsion,  cupidity,  and  fear,  create  a  sense  of 
moral  obligation,  of  loyalty  to  duty? 

How  can  compulsion  create  it?  Our  experience  is 
not  that  we  are  compelled  to  do  right,  but  that  we 
ought  to  do  it. 

How  can  expectation  of  rewards,  or  fear  of  punish- 
ment, create  it?  The  moral  sense  bids  us  do  right 
whatever  the  consequences. 

By  such  means  the  feeling  of  moral  obligation  might 
be  strengthened  in  an  individual  already  possessed  of 
a  moral  sense,  but  it  is  as  inconceivable  that  social 
influences  of  compulsion,  cupidity,  and  fear,  could 


SOUL  AND  OVERSOUL  73 

produce  a  moral  consciousness  where  none  existed, 
as  to  suppose  the  chromatic  scale  could  be  produced 
on  the  keyboard  of  a  piano  in  which  every  string 
was  of  the  same  length,  merely  by  diligent  strum- 
ming. 

Society  can  coerce,  bribe  or  threaten  us  into  con- 
sent to,  or  conformity  with,  its  customs  and  con- 
ventions; but  that  conformity  with  social  conven- 
tions is  one  thing,  and  our  feeling  about  right  quite 
another,  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  the  latter  often 
impels  us  to  take  a  stand  in  irreconcilable  opposition 
to  the  former. 

Again  and  again  men  and  women  have  flatly 
antagonized  not  only  the  customs  of  society  hallowed 
by  long  descent,  but  things  which  society  regards  as 
its  vital  interests. 

A  Wyclif  and  a  Luther  raise  their  voices  against 
the  creeds  of  centuries.  A  Thomas  Clarkson  and  a 
Granville  Sharp  head  an  unpopular  movement  for 
the  abolition  of  the  slave  trade,  a  movement  which 
seemed  to  their  contemporaries  to  strike  at  the  roots 
of  vested  interests  and  to  threaten  the  privileges  of 
private  property.  In  innumerable  other  instances  we 
see  the  feeling  about  right  prompting  to  courses  in 
uncompromising  antagonism  to  social  usages.  How 
can  it  be  the  product  of  that  to  which  it  is  capable  of 
irreconcilably  opposing  itself? 

Another  school  finds  the  source  in  our  animal 
ancestors,  in  forms  of  life  lower  than  our  own. 

No  one  denies  that  many  objects  are  derived  from 
predecessors  externally  unlike  themselves.  The  bird 
from  the  egg,  the  plant  from  the  seed,  for  example, 
but  no  one  doubts  that  internally  and  actually  egg 
and  seed  contain  the  embryo  respectively  of  bird 


74  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

and  plant.  When  it  is  said  that  the  source  of  morals 
is  in  the  lower  forms  of  animal  life,  we  are  assuming 
that  moral  natures  have  issued  from  natures,  by  impli- 
cation, destitute  of  even  the  embryo  of  morality. 
This  is  irrational.  We  can  no  more  grow  a  sense  of 
right  out  of  elements  destitute  of  a  sense  of  right,  than 
we  can  grow  a  crop  of  wheat  by  plowing  the  sea 
sands.  Some  minds  seem  to  think  that  everything 
is  explained  by  the  term  amalgamation.  That  some- 
how if  we  mix  things  well  enough  and  long  enough 
miraculous  results  ensue.  But  if  there  be  only  por- 
ridge in  the  pot,  only  porridge  will  come  out  of  the 
pot  for  all  our  stirring.  The  outcome  of  the  mixing 
will  be  always  of  the  same  order  as  that  to  which 
belong  the  ingredients  mixed. 

The  inherent  unsoundness  of  the  principle  which 
would  draw  our  feeling  that  right  ought  to  be  done, 
from  natures  that  have  no  such  feeling,  is  to  some 
extent  hidden  by  the  specious  language  in  which  it 
is  usually  expressed.  Darwin,  for  instance,  in  his 
"Descent  of  Man,"  says  that  it  seems  to  him  in  a  high 
degree  probable  "that  any  animal  whatever,  endowed 
with  well  marked  social  instincts,  would  inevitably 
acquire  a  moral  sense  or  conscience,  as  soon  as  the 
intellectual  powers  had  become  as  well  developed,  or 
nearly  as  well  developed,  as  in  man." 

It  is  difficult  to  see  how  "social  instincts"  can 
'mean  anything  else  than  impulses  of  gregariousness 
prompting  individuals  to  associate  together  for  pur- 
poses of  common  profit  and  advantage. 

Such  impulses  are  at  bottom  nothing  more  than 
the  desire  to  obtain  pleasure  and  avoid  pain.  The 
motive  forces  behind  social  instincts  are  those  of 
pleasure  and  pain.  The  same  is  true  of  intellectual 


SOUL  AND  OVERSOUL  75 

powers.  In  their  essence  they  are  the  instruments 
by  which  we  perceive  and  judge,  compare  and  adapt, 
means  to  ends.  We  use  these  instruments  because 
we  desire  to  obtain  things  that  will  be  of  advantage, 
in  other  words,  things  that  will  be  sources  of  pleasure 
and  happiness,  or  will  protect  us  against  loss,  harm 
and  pain. 

Consequently  pleasures  and  pains  are  the  motive 
impulses  behind  social  instincts  and  intellectual 
activities. 

Now  the  impulse  behind  our  feeling  about  right  is, 
that  right  ought  to  be  done  regardless  of  pleasure  or 
pain. 

It  was  not  to  embrace  a  pleasure  or  avoid  a  pain 
that  the  Eurasian  missionary  kissed  the  leprous  lips, 
and  that  Svetlogoub  surrendered  his  fortune  to  the 
poor,  and  his  neck  to  the  hangman. 

The  impulse  here  was  a  sense  of  loyalty  to  something 
to  which  they  felt  they  owed  allegiance.  In  obedience 
to  this  feeling,  pleasures  and  pains,  advantages  and 
fears,  were  trampled  underfoot. 

Is  it  not  contrary  to  reason  to  draw  from  pleasures 
and  pains  impulses  which  totally  ignore  pleasures 
and  pains? 

Again,  we  are  assured  that  it  is  a  waste  of  energy  to 
seek  the  source  of  our  moral  sensibility  elsewhere. 
The  source  is  here  in  ourselves.  It  is  the  voice  of 
my  higher  self  admonishing  my  lower  and  more 
brutal  self. 

Plausible  but  fallacious.  The  phrase  higher  self 
admonishing  the  lower  self  is  misleading.  There  are 
not  two  individuals  within  my  skin,  one  of  them  able 
to  "boss"  the  other,  as  seems  to  be  implied.  Those 
who  use  the  expression  "higher  self"  admonishing  the 


76  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

"lower  self,"  mean  probably,  that, feeling  right  ought 
to  be  done,  I  curb  my  lower  impulses. 

What  we  desire  to  know,  is,  whence  comes  the  feel- 
ing that  I  ought  to  curb  my  lower  impulses,  a  feeling 
which  I  myself  experience  as  an  authoritative  demand 
imposed  on  me? 

Since  that  which  imposes  authority  cannot  be  the 
same  as  that  on  which  the  authority  is  imposed,  the 
source  of  this  authoritative  feeling  imposed  on  me 
cannot  be  in  me  but  must  be  in  something  else. 

Obviously,  one  section  of  myself  is  incompetent  to 
impose  an  authoritative  obligation  on  another  section. 
It  requires  a  man  to  exact  obedience  from  even  the 
feeblest  of  his  fellows,  while  this  theory  would  have 
us  suppose  that  in  the  moral  life,  the  strongest  and 
most  self-reliant  yield  obedience  to  something  that 
is  only  half  a  man. 

If  not  in  our  ordinary  self,  is  it  not  possible  the 
feeling  has  its  source  in  that  marvellous  extension  of 
ourselves  revealed  by  modern  psychology,  and  called 
the  subconscious  or  transmarginal  self?  Is  the  feel- 
ing of  ought  due  to  "an  explosion  into  the  fields  of 
ordinary  consciousness  of  ideas  elaborated  outside  of 
these  fields,  in  subliminal  regions  of  the  mind?" 

Several  difficulties  stand  in  the  way  of  this  suppo- 
sition. Uprushes  of  the  subconscious  take  place 
apparently,  only  under  hysterical  or  at  least  abnormal 
conditions.  The  feeling  of  moral  obligation,  on  the 
contrary,  is  in  the  strictest  sense  an  experience  of 
normality,  always  with  us,  part  of  our  working  every- 
day outfit. 

That  a  welling  up  of  the  subconscious  should  have 
something  to  do  with  the  flashes  of  insight,  and  the 
moments  of  inspiration,  of  men  of  genius,  as  F.  W.  H. 


SOUL  AND  OVERSOUL  77 

Myers  held,  appears  reasonable  enough,  but  that  such 
uprushes  are  the  same  thing  as  the  quiet,  persistent 
whispers  of  the  inward  monitor,  will  be  for  most  of 
us  probably  inconceivable. 

Again,  both  the  uniformity  and  the  universality  of 
the  sense  of  right  make  against  the  notion  that  its 
source  is  in  the  transmarginal  region.  These  regions 
must  be  supposed  to  differ  from  each  other  as  the  indi- 
viduals to  whom  they  belong  differ.  It  is  therefore  not 
easy  to  see  how  they  could  give  rise  to  an  identical 
feeling,  except  in  so  far  as  they  were  acted  upon  by  an 
identical  agency  beyond  themselves. 

Furthermore,  whatever  be  the  character  of  the 
wider  self  in  other  respects,  it  is  a  part  of  me,  a  sub- 
merged tract  of  my  personality. 

Since  the  feeling  about  right  is  of  the  nature  of  an 
authority  laying  an  obligation  upon  me,  and  since 
the  subliminal  element  is  part  of  me,  the  authoritative 
obligation  of  righteousness,  is  authoritative  for  the 
subliminal,  as  for  the  rest  of  me,  and  as  a  conse- 
quence must  have  its  source  elsewhere  than  in  the 
subject  over  which  its  sway  is  wielded.  If  this  sub- 
liminal is  not  part  of  me,  but  is  external  to  my  totality 
of  being,  then  the  argument  that  the  source  of  the 
feeling  about  right  is  in  myself,  because  it  is  in  this 
subliminal  element,  falls  to  the  ground. 

To  review  what  has  been  said. 

When  we  attempt  to  trace  the  feeling  about  right, 
the  sense  of  ought,  to  its  source,  we  are  unable  to 
find  the  source  in  prudential  motives,  or  in  social 
pressure  or  influence,  nor  is  it  the  result  of  the  growth 
of  moral  sensibility  from  lower  forms  of  life.  The 


78  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

magic  of  amalgamation  is  incompetent  to  produce 
morality  out  of  non-moral  ingredients,  nor  can  it 
spring  from  our  inner,  or  from  our  submerged,  con- 
sciousness. Whence  then  does  it  spring? 

Since  its  origin  is  not  to  be  discovered  in  those 
sections  of  our  surroundings  which  are  on  a  level 
with  ourselves,  namely,  in  human  society  or  in  our 
own  consciousness,  and  since  it  does  not  issue  from 
forms  of  life  which  are  lower  than  ourselves,  the  indi- 
cations are  that  it  comes  from  a  source  higher  than 
ourselves. 

Consider  once  more  the  situation.  A  sense  of 
obligation  to  do  right  is  experienced  by  the  whole 
of  mankind,  and  experienced  as  an  authority  they  are 
in  duty  bound  to  obey. 

Do  not  these  facts  suggest,  to  some  extent  at  least, 
what  the  nature  of  its  source  must  be?  The  feeling 
is,  in  the  first  place,  common  to  all  mankind,  a  uni- 
versal experience.  In  the  second  place,  it  is  the  same 
everywhere.  Not  unstable,  desultory,  but  immutable, 
invariable,  permanent.  In  the  third  place,  it  imposes 
itself  upon  us  with  authoritative  power.  It  speaks 
to  the  soul  with  a  sovereign  voice.  We  acknowledge, 
and  we  cannot  help  acknowledging,  that  we  ought  to 
discharge  our  moral  obligation.  Try  as  we  may,  we 
are  unable  to  rid  ourselves  of  the  consciousness  of 
allegiance  owed  to  right. 

Here  then,  is  an  immutable  feeling  imposing  itself 
upon  us  with  authority.  Consequently,  whencesoever 
it  may  come,  it  must  be  from  some  source  higher  than 
ourselves,  for  only  that  which  is  higher  than,  superior 
to,  ourselves  can  be  experienced  by  us  as  an  authority. 
Furthermore,  this  feeling  is  experienced  as  an  author- 
ity by  the  entire  human  race.  Its  source  therefore, 


SOUL  AND  OVERSOUL  79 

must  be  above,  higher  than,  superior  to,  the  entire 
human  race. 

It  will  scarcely  be  denied  that  whatever  is  above, 
higher  than,  superior  to,  all  that  is  human,  is  super- 
human. From  this  the  conclusion  appears  inevitable 
that  the  source  of  our  feeling  that  right  ought  to  be 
done  is  a  superhuman  source.  "  The  moral  law  comes 
to  us  out  of  the  infinite  depths  and  heights.  It  is  a 
voice  that  speaks  to  us  out  of  the  ultimate  reality  of 
things." 

An  incredible  doctrine,  opposed  to  the  whole  trend 
of  modern  thought,  it  will  be  said.  Yet  the  doctrine 
rests  upon  a  fact  imbedded  in  the  very  centre  of  our 
human  nature.  To  refute  the  doctrine,  either  we 
must  get  rid  of  the  fact,  or  find  some  other  than  a 
superhuman  explanation. 

We  cannot  get  rid  of  the  fact.  The  feeling  that 
right  ought  to  be  done  is  universal  and  ineradicable, 
part  of  the  equipment  of  rational  beings.  Were  we 
without  the  feeling,  it  would  mark  us  as  either  less 
than,  or  more  than,  man.  With  regard  to  its  explan- 
ation, our  endeavor  has  been  to  show  that  none  but 
a  superhuman  one  meets  the  case. 

This  being  admitted,  the  final  and  momentous 
result  at  which  we  arrive,  is,  that  since  our  feeling 
about  right  is  a  manifestation  of  the  superhuman,  and 
since  its  influence  is  exercised  over  the  entire  human 
race,  therefore,  the  entire  human  race  is  actively  and 
unremittingly  influenced  toward  righteousness  by  a 
superhuman  agency.  By  an  agent  of  the  Eternal  both 
sage  and  savage  are  attended  on  their  way.  At  every 
stage  of  the  journey  of  life  soul  is  in  touch  with  Over- 
soul. 

From  such  contact  may  not  streams  of  energy,  may 


80  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

not  fire  from  heaven  be  drawn?  Experience  shows 
that  we  are  able  to  reduce  the  thread  of  connection 
with  the  superhuman  almost  to  the  vanishing  point. 
Can  we  not  also  enlarge  it,  until  the  superhuman 
permeates  our  being?  With  the  cooperation  of  these 
higher  powers  it  should  be  possible  for  us  to  trans- 
form our  lives. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  CONDUCT  OF  THE  SOUL 

1.     The  Soul's  Quest 

Surrounded  by  a  world  on  the  whole,  immeasurably 
stronger  than  itself,  the  soul  makes  the  amazing  dis- 
covery that  in  some  respects  it  is  stronger  than  the 
world. 

"In  the  fell  clutch  of  circumstance 

I  have  not  winced  nor  cried  aloud, 
Under  the  bludgeonings  of  chance 
My  head  is  bloody  but  unbowed. 

"It  matters  not  how  strait  the  gate, 

How  charged  with  punishments  the  scroll, 
I  am  the  master  of  my  fate, 
I  am  the  captain  of  my  soul." 

The  great  and  powerful  universe  can  crush  and  kill 
us,  but  it  cannot  make  us  say  "yes"  if  we  decide  to 
say  "no."  To  a  limited  extent  we  are  independent 
of  the  world.  Within  prescribed  bounds  we  possess 
a  real  detachment  and  freedom,  and  are  able  to  choose 
our  own  course.  The  ever  pressing  question  is,  how 
to  choose? 

Instinctively,  the  soul  chooses  for  its  own  benefit, 
uses  its  independence  to  seek  its  own  good. 

We  perceive  in  ourselves  certain  appetites  and 
desires,  impulses  in  a  deep  and  true  sense  sacred,  in 

81 


82  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

as  much  as  they  are  rooted  in  the  nature  of  things, 
in  the  divine  order.  These  appetites  and  desires, 
for  food,  drink,  warmth,  companionship,  admiration, 
possessions,  power,  love,  beauty,  etc.,  we  seek  to 
satisfy,  and  in  their  satisfaction  we  find  our  welfare, 
our  pleasure,  our  happiness,  our  good. 

As  John  Stuart  Mill  writes:  "To  think  of  an 
object  as  desirable  (unless  for  the  sake  of  its  con- 
sequences), and  to  think  of  it  as  pleasant,  are  one 
and  the  same  thing,  and  to  desire  anything  except 
in  proportion  as  the  idea  of  it  is  pleasant,  is  a  physical 
and  metaphysical  impossibility." 

When  we  say,  the  soul  seeks  its  own  good,  we  mean 
then,  that  it  seeks  to  fulfil  its  desires,  finding  in  such 
fulfilment  pleasure  or  happiness.  This  constitutes 
its  good.  The  most  rational  view  of  the  difference 
between  pleasure  and  happiness  appears  to  be  that 
it  is  one  of  degree.  If  pleasure  be  represented  by  a 
single  musical  note,  then,  happiness  is  a  number  of 
notes  sounding  in  harmony.  We  cannot  perhaps 
define  happiness.  We  do  not  need  to  define  it.  Every 
one  knows  what  it  is,  and  recognizes  it  as  a  desirable 
condition,  as  something  good.  Light  on  the  point 
may  be  gained  possibly,  from  the  consideration  that 
both  happiness  and  the  good  are  allied  to  worth.  All 
good  things  we  regard  as  of  more  or  less  worth. 
The  worth  of  things  lies  wholly  in  their  capacity  to 
give  pleasure  or  happiness.  Rubies  and  diamonds  are 
precious,  are  of  worth,  only  because  they  contribute 
to  this  end.  Did  rubies  and  diamonds  give  us  pain 
instead  of  pleasure,  their  price  would  drop  to  zero. 
Different  things  have  different  rates  of  worth  for 
different  people,  but  in  every  instance  ,the  thing's 
worth  consists  in  the  amount  of  pleasure  or  happi- 
ness it  gives. 


THE  CONDUCT  OF  THE  SOUL  83 

Since  good  is  equivalent  to  worth,  and  since  happi- 
ness is  also  equivalent  to  worth,  and  since  things  that 
are  equal  to  the  same  thing  are  equal  to  one  another, 
therefore,  what  we  call  the  good,  and  what  we  call 
happiness,  are  equivalent. 

The  good  is  thus  identical  with  happiness.  The 
highest  good  is  that  which  promotes  in  the  highest 
degree  the  happiness  of  all. 

Some  have  said  that  the  highest  good  is  perfection, 
but  of  what  avail  is  perfection  without  happiness? 
Others  have  regarded  character  as  the  highest  good, 
yet  of  what  worth  would  character  be,  if  it  produced 
nothing  but  misery?  We  value  character  because 
we  believe  that  through  it  may  be  obtained  the  oppo- 
site of  misery.  Are  there  not  forms  of  happiness 
which  instead  of  being  good,  are  evil?  Those  of  the 
drunkard  and  the  libertine,  for  example?  In  such 
instances,  it  is  not  the  pleasure  or  happiness  that  is 
evil,  the  evil  element  is  the  pain  caused  to  others, 
and  ultimately  to  ourselves,  by  drunkenness  and 
immorality.  In  using  its  independence  to  seek  its 
own  good,  the  soul  seeks  happiness.  For  no  other  end 
is  it  in  the  least  worth  striving. 


2.     The  Soul's  Dilemma 

Thus,  the  path  seems  plain  and  clear.  Not  far, 
however,  do  we  travel  along  the  way  of  life,  before 
the  pursuit  of  pleasure  receives  a  check.  The  soul 
finds  itself  compelled  to  pause,  and  think,  and  ques- 
tion. Potent  as  the  impulses  of  appetite  and  desire 
are,  the  soul  is  not  the  slave  of  these  impulses.  If  it 
choose  to  do  so,  it  can  refuse  to  yield  to  them,  and 
in  certain  instances  it  knows  it  ought  to  refuse.  It 


84  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

is  aware  of  a  peculiar  sensation  that,  in  certain 
instances,  not  pleasure,  but  right,  should  be  our 
aim. 

The  source  and  significance  of  this,  the  central  fact 
of  our  experience,  has  been  discussed  in  a  previous 
chapter.  The  feeling  that  right  ought  to  be  done 
was  there  shown  to  be  acknowledged  as  authoritative 
by  the  whole  human  race.  Every  one  will  agree  that 
right  has  to  do  with  the  good.  We  ought  to  do  right 
means  we  ought  to  do  what  is  good,  in  other  words, 
what  promotes  happiness.  Hence  the  feeling  about 
right  and  the  instincts  of  the  soul  point  in  the  same 
direction,  namely,  toward  happiness.  Conflict  comes, 
only  where  there  is  an  option  between  different 
happinesses.  Every  one  will  agree  further,  that  the 
feeling  we  ought  to  do  what  is  good,  means,  we  ought 
to  do  what  is  good  always  and  everywhere,  and 
to  the  utmost  of  our  ability.  The  only  limit  the  moral 
sense  recognizes  is  the  limit  of  capacity.  Do  all  the 
good  you  can,  is  the  criterion.  When  therefore,  we 
are  confronted  by  alternatives  both  good,  evidently, 
we  ought  to  take  the  course  promoting  the  greater 
good.  How  are  we  to  know  the  greater  good?  We 
are  endowed  with  no  infallible  instrument  of  dis- 
crimination. The  feeling  about  right  is  no  such  in- 
strument. It  begins  and  ends  in  a  sense  that  right 
ought  to  be  done,  that  we  are  in  duty  bound  to  do 
it.  As  to  which  is  the  right,  the  greater  good,  on  any 
particular  occasion,  it  gives  no  indication. 

We  ourselves  must  use  our  wits  and  exercise  our 
intelligence.  The  course  we  judge  and  believe  to  be 
for  the  greater  good,  is  for  us,  the  right,  and  that 
course  the  sense  of  moral  obligation  bids  us  pursue. 
We  may  be  mistaken.  Correct  judgment  depends 
chiefly  on  the  amount  of  our  knowledge,  and  this 


THE  CONDUCT  OF  THE  SOUL  85 

depends  on  education.  Against  error,  education  is 
the  only  safeguard. 

The  direction  we  take,  in  our  endeavor  to  obey 
the  feeling  about  right,  thus  hinges  on  our  possibly 
mistaken  judgment.  There  is  no  help  for  this.  We 
have  to  run  the  risk.  Our  line  of  action  may  not  be 
that  which  in  reality  makes  for  the  larger  volume  of 
good  or  happiness,  and  later  on  we  may  suffer  from 
the  consequences  of  our  error,  but  the  suffering  will 
be  of  the  kind  that  follows  an  error,  not  of  the  kind 
that  follows  a  moral  wrong,  a  sin.  If  we  have  adopted 
the  plan  of  action  which  to  the  best  of  our  judgment 
and  belief  was  for  the  right,  then,  however  foolish  our 
conduct  from  a  practical  point  of  view,  and  however 
unfortunate  the  outcome,  our  conscience  will  be 
clear. 

In  many,  perhaps  in  the  majority  of  situations,  no 
effort  is  required  on  our  part  to  decide  which  the 
greater  good  is.  If  the  question  be  of  my  own  good 
and  that  of  the  community,  clearly,  the  greater  good 
lies  in  the  direction  of  the  community.  If  the  issue 
be  between  myself  and  another  individual,  the  greater 
good  will  be  promoted  by  sharing  my  good  with  him, 
for  the  obvious  reason  that  the  good  of  two  is  greater 
than  that  of  one.  In  such  examples  the  issue  may  be 
read  by  him  who  runs.  Other  situations  present 
difficulties,  for  example: 

Two  passengers  from  a  torpedoed  liner  are  clinging 
to  a  plank.  One  of  them  is  a  ship's  stoker,  the  other 
a  young  doctor,  a  specialist  in  childrens'  diseases, 
with  important  achievements  in  research  work  to  his 
credit,  and  a  brilliant  career  opening  before  him.  He 
sees  that  the  plank  cannot  support  two.  One  of  them 
must  seek  safety  elsewhere,  if  the  other  is  to  survive. 
Which  is  it  to  be?  The  stoker  is  the  older  and  the 


86  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

weaker  man,  but  at  all  costs  he  wants  to  live,  and 
clings  desperately  to  the  plank.  In  the  doctor's  mind 
a  strife,  an  agitation,  takes  place.  Carefully  trained, 
highly  educated,  is  he  not  worth  more  to  the  world 
than  a  common  coal  shoveller?  Yet  this  coal  shoveller 
may  be  the  father  of  a  family,  have  many  attached 
friends,  be  a  valuable  citizen.  After  a  few  moments 
the  young  physician  quietly  lets  go  his  hold,  swims 
away,  and  overcome  with  cold  and  exhaustion, 
presently  sinks.  During  the  next  half  hour  the  stoker 
is  rescued  by  a  passing  boat. 

In  this  instance,  the  question  was  not  of  sharing, 
but  of  surrendering,  happiness.  Did  the  young 
doctor  make  a  mistake.  Would  he*  have  promoted 
the  larger  happiness  by  preserving  his  own  life,  and 
shaking  the  other  fellow  off?  Science  and  philosophy 
may  reply,  'yes,  the  man  was  a  fool.'  As  the  crackling 
of  sticks,  will  such  an  answer  seem  to  many  of  us. 
The  man  could  not  indeed  be  certain  the  course  he 
took  would  secure  the  larger  happiness,  but  the  course 
he  took  makes  us  certain  that  the  larger  happiness 
was  his  pure  untainted  aim.  Sure  of  this  we, 
revere  him  as  a  hero,  and  our  hearts  offer  him  their 
homage. 

When  a  conflict  arises  between  our  own  good  and 
that  of  other  people,  our  moral  sense  bids  us  make 
for  what  we  believe  to  be  the  larger  good,  even  at 
cost  to  ourselves,  even  though  such  a  course  involve 
the  surrender  of  the  whole  of  our  own  good. 

"When  joy  and  duty  clash 
Then  joy  must  go  to  smash." 

is  the  sum  and  substance  of  the  ethical  law.  Obedi- 
ence to  the  ethical  law;  that  is,  to  the  mandate  the 


THE  CONDUCT  OF  THE  SOUL  87 

feeling  about  right  lays  upon  our  heart,  is  what  is 
meant  by  moral  goodness.  Moral  excellence  con- 
sists in  willingness  to  endure  loss  and  pain  ourselves, 
for  the  sake  of  promoting  the  good;  that  is,  the 
happiness,  of  others. 

When  the  "Titanic"  struck  the  iceberg,  the  men 
remained  on  board  and  went  down  with  the  ship, 
in  order  that  there  might  be  room  for  the  women  and 
children  in  the  boats.  The  deed  was  morally  excel- 
lent, and  the  men  were  moral  heroes,  because  out  of 
loyalty  to  their  sense  of  right  they  voluntarily  endured 
pain  themselves,  in  order  to  secure  good,  or  happiness, 
for  others.  They  deliberately  chose  the  course  of 
action  which  they  believed  promoted  the  larger 
amount  of  good,  although,  they  themselves  suffered 
in  consequence. 

The  ineradicable  conviction  of  mankind  is,  that 
although  those  who  sacrifice  themselves  for  others 
seem  to  incur  defeat  and  total  loss,  there  is  somehow, 
in  spite  of  appearances  to  the  contrary,  instead  of 
defeat,  victory,  instead  of  loss,  gain. 

An  inkling  of  the  truth  at  the  bottom  of  this  con- 
viction may  be  obtained,  perhaps,  from  the  con- 
sideration that  if  all  things  be  related,  then  all  souls 
are  related,  soul  life  with  soul  life,  and  the  whole  with 
the  common  source  of  life.  Such  being  the  case,  is 
it  not  imaginable  that  selfishness  reduces  the  links 
of  relationship  and  thereby  tends  to  isolate  the  soul, 
and  correspondingly  to  weaken  it,  while  on  the  other 
hand,  unselfishness  adds  to  those  links,  in  this  way 
bringing  the  soul's  individual  life  into  closer  touch 
with  the  universal  life?  Would  not  this  be  likely 
to  result  in  an  increase  of  the  power  and  vitality  of 
the  individual,  far  outweighing  the  loss  incurred 
through  self  sacrifice? 


88  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

Evidence  exists  which  supports  this  idea. 

The  case  of  Charles  Lamb,  for  instance.  For  the 
sake  of  his  poor  mad  sister,  Lamb  sacrificed  at  the 
outset  of  his  career  ease  and  comfort,  prospects  of 
marriage,  and  opportunities  of  devoting  himself  to 
study;  surrendered,  in  fact,  about  all  that  for  most  of 
us  makes  life  worth  living.  Nevertheless,  it  would 
appear  that  out  of  his  surrender  of  good  came  an 
increase  of  good.  Before  this  time,  he  tells  us,  he 
himself  had  had  at  least  one  attack  of  the  insanity 
which  was  hereditary  in  his  family.  After  this 
renunciation  for  the  sake  of  a  fellow  creature,  the 
tendency  to  mental  unsoundness  entirely  disappeared, 
his  mental  nature  seemed  quickened,  his  imagination 
strengthened.  "With  me,"  he  wrote,  "the  former 
things  are  passed  away.  I  have  something  more  to 
do  now  than  to  feel." 

Writing  from  the  battle-fields  of  France  and  Flan- 
ders, an  American  newspaper  correspondent  declared, 
"  In  scores  of  instances  I  have  been  with  men  in  their 
dying  moments,  men  who  have  laid  down  their  lives 
for  their  country,  and  in  every  instance  their  minds 
were  serenely  content.  On  their  faces  was  an  ex- 
pression of  radiant  happiness." 

Always,  the  saints  have  counted  it  not  loss  but  gain 
to  suffer  in  the  cause  of  justice  and  mercy. 

3.    The  Easier  Way. 

Admirable  though  the  course  described  may  be,  it  is 
not  a  necessary  course.  There  is  an  alternative.  It 
is  possible  to  ignore  the  feeling  about  right,  refuse  to 
incur  loss  and  pain  at  the  call  of  duty,  and  turn  instead 
to  seek  our  own  happiness  without  consideration  for 
others. 


THE  CONDUCT  OF  THE  SOUL  89 

Strong  tendencies  urge  us  in  that  direction.  Look 
out  for  number  one,  everybody  for  himself,  is  the 
easier  way.  Why  should  not  the  soul  choose  the 
easier  way?  Were  we  as  the  creatures  of  the  jungle 
and  the  poultry  yard,  this  would  be  our  proper  course. 
It  is  not  our  proper  course  only  because  we  are  not 
as  the  creatures  of  the  jungle  and  the  poultry  yard. 
We  possess  a  quality  of  which  they  are  destitute. 
In  addition  to  their  animal  instincts  we  have  an 
instinct  that  is  not  animal,  something  much  more 
than  an  instinct,  a  feeling  unique  and  extraordinary 
about  right.  A  feeling  that  bids  us  on  certain  occa- 
sions shape  our  conduct  by  other  than  animal  motives, 
by  motives  of  unselfishness,  of  altruism. 

But  to  shape  our  conduct  after  this  fashion  is  irk- 
some. Why  not  yield  to  the  pleasant  beast-of-the- 
field  impulses,  and  seek  after  our  own  safety,  and  com- 
fort, and  wellbeing?  Often  enough  this  seems  the 
natural,  the  common  sense  thing  to  do.  Ordinarily, 
it  is  also  the  right  thing  to  do.  It  becomes  wrong  only 
when  our  welfare  conflicts  with  the  welfare  of  others. 
It  is  wrong  under  these  circumstances  only  because 
we  know  a  higher,  if  a  harder,  way.  Yet  not  by  heroes 
are  those  blamed  who  shrink  from  the  supreme  sac- 
rifice. The  trouble  is,  evasion  of  sacrifice  brings  no 
satisfying  results.  We  are  not  made  happier  thereby, 
but  the  contrary. 

Alluring,  pleasant,  desirable  though  the  way  of 
selfishness  appear,  it  is  the  way  of  folly  as  well  as  of 
moral  wrong.  Always  the  quest  for  joy  through 
selfishness  is  a  failure.  The  price  paid  outweighs  the 
joy  gained.  Selfishness,  sin,  (sin  is  nothing  but  sel- 
fishness,) leads  to  misery,  never  to  anything  else,  for 
as  was  before  shown,  the  feeling  about  right  is  the 
expression  in  our  humanity  of  the  governing  goodness 


90  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

of  the  universe.  The  obligation  laid  upon  us  by  the 
moral  sense  is  thus  no  mere  human  ordinance,  or 
man  made  rule  and  law,  but  a  summons  from  the 
Eternal.  When,  therefore,  the  soul  sets  itself  in  oppo- 
sition to  the  sense  of  moral  obligation,  it  is  setting  itself 
in  opposition  to  a  power  omnipotent,  invincible,  and 
in  the  end,  irresistible. 

For  a  time  opposition  may  be  maintained,  but  the 
final  and  certain  outcome  is  defeat.  Defeat  signifies 
the  necessity  of  conforming  to  the  will  of  the  conqueror. 
Since  in  this  case  the  conqueror  is  the  supreme  power 
of  righteousness,  to  righteousness  the  defeated  must 
ultimately  conform.  The  soul  which  has  accustomed 
itself  to  evil  will  be  obliged  both  to  accustom  itself  to 
good,  and  so  radically  to  change  its  own  inner  nature 
as  to  acquire  a  desire  for  the  good,  a  hunger  and  thirst 
after  righteousness.  Clearly  the  preliminary  step  in 
such  a  process  must  be  a  contrite  acknowledgment  of 
guilt  and  error.  Not  until  conviction  on  this  point 
has  been  reached  will  any  genuine  rearrangement  of 
ideas  concerning  good  and  evil  be  possible.  Even 
when  this  valley  of  humilation  has  been  traversed, 
the  soul  will  find  itself  no  more  than  at  the  beginning 
of  the  way.  Painful  will  it  be,  for  the  only  exit  from 
the  valley  of  humiliation,  is  through  the  door  of  repar- 
ation and  atonement.  When  the  prodigal,  in  the 
parable,  returned  home,  was  it  not  to  take  up,  after 
the  interlude  of  the  fatted  calf,  the  hard  drudgery  of 
a  hired  servant? 

On  the  other  hand,  while  obedience  to  duty  results 
often  in  painful  experiences,  these  are  incidental.  We 
have  seen  that  the  summons  comes  from  the  super- 
human, from  the  heights  of  the  Eternal,  from  the  power 
which  is  a  power  of  perfect  life.  It  is  therefore  toward 


THE  CONDUCT  OF  THE  SOUL  91 

perfection  of  life  that  we  are  called,  and  perfection  of 
life  means  happiness. 

Through  obedience,  the  soul  not  only  sets  its  face 
toward  ultimate  happiness,  but  at  once  enters  into 
alliance  with  the  Eternal,  comes  into  accord  with  the 
Most  High,  links  soul  with  Oversoul,  establishing 
thereby  an  inflow  of  what  must  prove  in  the  long  run, 
transforming  vitality  and  strength. 

That  way  salvation  lies,  for  though  the  path  lead 
up  many  a  steep  hill  and  down  many  a  dark  ravine, 
the  trail  is  blazed  by  the  axe  of  God,  and  each  step 
brings  us  nearer  to  that  state  in  which  suffering  is 
outgrown  because  imperfection  is  outgrown. 

4.    Practical  Consequences. 

The  business  of  the  soul,  it  has  been  said,  is  to 
make  for  happiness,  with  the  single  condition  that 
when  there  is  a  choice  between  alternative  courses 
of  action,  the  soul  shall  choose  that  which  to  the  best 
of  its  belief  promotes  the  larger  amount  of  happiness, 
even  at  cost  of  its  own. 

How  would  this  work  out  in  practice?  If  this 
principle  were  acknowledged  as  the  supreme  rule  of 
life,  how,  for  example,  would  it  affect  the  use  of  force? 
It  would  limit  the  use  of  force  to  protection  and 
defence.  But,  if  I  am  sure  that  my  system  of  govern- 
ment, or  my  method  of  social  organization,  or  my 
doctrines  of  religion,  promote  the  largest  amount  of 
happiness,  am  I  not  justified  in  compelling  their 
acceptance  by  other  people?  I  have  no  such  justi- 
fication, for  it  must  be  remembered  that  other  people 
may  be  equally  sure  that  some  different  kind  of 
government,  or  social  system,  or  religion,  makes  for 
the  largest  happiness.  Consequently,  however  con- 


92  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

fident  I  may  be  that  I  possess  the  truth,  so  long  as  I 
acknowledge  each  man's  right  to  do  what  he  believes 
to  be  right,  it  can  never  be  my  right  to  force  my  truth 
on  another  man.  Had  the  Spanish  Inquisitors  recog- 
nized this  principle,  there  would  have  been  no  In- 
quisition. Had  the  Protestants  recognized  it,  there 
would  have  been  no  hanging  of  Papists.  If  every  one 
did  what  he  believed  to  be  right,  and  permitted  the 
same  privilege  to  his  neighbor,  and  if  every  one  con- 
ceded that  for  every  one  the  right  course  is  to  pro- 
mote the  largest  amount  of  happiness  in  sight,  not 
only  should  we  make  an  end  of  tyranny  and  intoler- 
ance, but  peace  and  good  will  would  be  assured. 

How  would  the  establishment  of  this  principle 
affect  the  individual  citizen?  It  would  foster  and 
develop  the  individual  through  fellowship  with  other 
individuals.  Were  this  principle  the  rule  of  life,  no 
one  would  seek  his  own  happiness  regardless  of  his 
neighbors,  for  the  happiness  of  no  individual,  taken 
by  itself,  can  ever  be  the  largest  in  sight.  I  must,  if 
I  follow  out  this  principle,  seek  always  the  happiness 
of  others  in  addition  to  my  own,  and  sometimes  to 
the  loss  of  my  own,  and  others,  in  their  turn,  must  in 
addition  to  their  own,  and  sometimes  at  the  cost  of 
their  own,  seek  also  my  happiness. 

Were  we  always  busy  promoting  the  happiness  of 
our  neighbors,  and  were  our  neighbors  equally  busy 
promoting  ours,  all  the  world  would  be  happy,  sel- 
fishness would  be  eliminated,  and  sin  would  cease. 
The  ideal  of  socialism,  each  for  all  and  all  for  each, 
would  be  attained  without  the  burden  of  a  rigid 
socialistic  system. 

Since  the  one  thing  we  desire  of  other  people  is 
that  they  promote  our  happiness,  when  we  seek  to 
promote  theirs,  we  are  doing  to  them  what  we  would 


THE  CONDUCT  OF  THE  SOUL  93 

have  them  do  to  us.  By  putting  our  principle  into 
practice,  therefore,  we  establish  the  golden  rule  as 
the  universal  law  of  life. 

With  the  golden  rule  accepted  universally,  errors  of 
judgment  would  be  the  only  remaining  sources  of 
discord.  For  errors  of  judgment,  more  knowledge, 
more  enlightenment,  are  the  remedies,  and  these  it 
may  well  be  the  care  of  society  to  impart. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL 

What  of  the  future?     What  of  the  destiny  of  the  soul? 
LIFE  is  the  desired  destiny. 

INSTINCT  whispers  that  with  a  sufficiency  of  life, 
the  rest  will  take  care  of  itself. 

Sometimes  we  cry  out  against  life  and  question  its 
worth,  but  in  our  calmer  moments  we  recognize  these 
despairing  moods  to  be  the  aberrations  of  a  mind 
unhinged  by  pain.  When  we  come  to  ourselves  we 
perceive  that  what  we  need  is  more,  not  less  of  life. 

Our  woes  are  due  to  the  defects,  to  the  imperfec- 
tions, of  existence,  and  these  imperfections  are  the 
result  of  the  meagreness  of  the  measure  of  existence 
that  is  ours. 

The  current  of  our  vitality  runs  low.  It  is  like  a 
trickling  stream  finding  its  way  with  difficulty  among 
the  boulders,  each  pebble  a  hindrance.  A  few  weeks 
later  boulder  and  pebble  have  disappeared.  Every 
obstacle  is  overcome  and  the  change  is  wrought  not 
by  removing  the  obstacles  but  by  adding  to  the 
volume  of  the  stream. 

So  from  our  troubles  deliverance  is  to  be  found 
through  an  increase  in  the  volume  of  our  vitality. 
Give  us  vitality  enough  and  our  infirmities  will 
vanish. 

"Whatever  crazy  sorrow  saith, 
No  life  that  breathes  with  human  breath 
94 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  95 

Has  ever  truly  longed  for  death. 
'Tis  life  whereof  our  nerves  are  scant, 
Oh  life  not  death  for  which  we  pant 
More  life  and  fuller  that  we  want. 

Few  probably  formulate  the  desire  to  themselves. 
It  lies  nevertheless  an  ineradicable  instinct  in  the 
depths  of  being.  The  endeavor  after  success,  achieve- 
ment, wealth,  amusement,  what  are  these  but  expres- 
sions of  the  passion  for  larger,  richer,  more  potent, 
vitality.  The  passion  is  justified,  it  is  in  accord  with 
the  order  of  things.  The  physical  world  is  pervaded 
by  a  movement  of  development  and  the  general  direc- 
tion of  development  appears  to  be  from  less  to  more 
life. 

That  this  is  the  case  with  individuals  is  beyond 
question.  No  individual  remains  stationary.  Every 
man  makes  some  advance  during  his  earthly  journey. 
The  saying  of  Job  "naked  came  I  out  of  my  mother's 
womb  and  naked  shall  I  return  thither"  must  not 
blind  us  to  the  truth  that  mentally  a  man  is  very 
far  indeed  from  being  as  naked  when  he  leaves  the 
world  as  when  he  enters  it. 

In  every  instance  even  the  most  degraded  savage 
achieves  some  mental  gain,  adding  thereby,  to  the 
volume  of  his  life.  Is  it  not  to  life  also  that  we  are 
called  by  the  sense  of  moral  obligation?  He  who 
loses  his  life  in  the  cause  of  justice  and  mercy,  we 
have  been  told,  shall  find  it  again,  enriched,  enlarged. 

The  desire  of  the  soul  is  therefore  one  and  the  same 
with  the  end  toward  which  all  animated  nature  moves. 
A  happy  augury  that  the  desire  will  be  satisfied. 

But  a  shadow  falls  across  the  dial,  the  dark  shadow 
of  death.  What  does  it  portend?  Is  the  "fell  ser- 
geant's strict  arrest,"  the  final  cessation  of  con- 
sciousness? In  appearance,  at  least,  the  soul's  life 


96  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

is  extinguished,  can  it  be  so  in  reality?  Plainly 
enough,  death  means  the  end  of  the  body.  We  see 
incurable  decay  breaking  down  the  substance  of 
tissue  and  bone  until  the  whole  is  dissolved  into  dust. 
But  what  of  the  soul?  Wistfully  our  hearts  ask,  is 
there  reasonable  ground  for  thinking  the  inward  self 
survives  the  shock  of  dissolution  and  passes  in  safety 
the  peril  of  the  grave? 

An  affirmative  answer  may  be  given  without  hesita- 
tion. There  is  very  good  ground  for  believing  that, 
as  regards  the  soul,  death  is  an  emancipator  rather 
than  a  destroyer.  There  is  a  weighty  volume  of  evi- 
dence in  favor  of  the  soul's  continued  existence. 


Continued  existence  is  suggested  by  the  indestructible 
nature  of  the  soul. 

We  know  that  it  is  made  of  different  stuff  from  the 
body.  As  a  consequence,  it  is  not  likely  to  be  subject 
to  the  forces  of  destruction  which  prey  upon  the  body. 
The  whole  of  the  material  universe  is  in  the  grip  of  a 
subtle,  unceasing,  irresistible,  power  of  disintegration. 
Wise  men  tell  us  the  world  itself  is  growing  old  and  is 
slowly  but  surely  moving  toward  a  point  of  time  when 
all  heat  having  passed  off,  it  will  crumble  down  and 
finally  dissolve  into  that  impalpable  cosmic  dust  out 
of  which  it  was  originally  formed. 

Insignificance  is  no  protection.  These  relentless 
agencies  are  busy  alike  with  the  world  and  with  the 
tiny  specks  of  matter  floating  in  a  sunbeam. 

Vast  as  the  power  of  disintegration  is,  it  is  capable 
of  working  in  but  one  way.  Its  activities  are  con- 
fined within  the  limits  of  a  single  process.  Be  it  a 
rock,  or  a  wall,  or  a  tree,  or  a  corpse,  whether  the 
operating  agency  be  water,  or  frost,  or  wind,  or  fire, 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  97 

whether  destruction  be  instantaneous,  or  gradual, 
sudden,  or  by  slow  degrees,  the  end  is  in  every  case 
accomplished  by  the  same  means. 

Call  it  decay,  or  dissolution,  or  death,  the  method  is 
identical.  The  forces  of  disintegration  work  by  rend- 
ing assunder,  by  pulling  apart,  the  groups  and  frag- 
ments of  groups  of  infinitely  minute  particles  which 
constitute  the  substance  of  all  material  things,  thus 
utterly  destroying  the  object,  the  thing,  whch  was 
composed  of  those  particles. 

How  is  it  with  the  thinking  mind,  the  living  and 
conscious  soul?  As  we  have  seen  it  does  not  consist, 
like  flesh  and  muscle,  of  groups  or  bunches  of  particles. 
In  what  manner,  then,  can  the  forces  of  dissolution 
lay  hold  of  it?  These  forces  destroy,  by  rending 
assunder  the  material  of  which  their  victim  is  fashioned, 
but  here  there  is  no  material.  They  achieve  their 
mission  by  tearing  apart  the  particles,  the  atoms, 
which  form  the  substance  of  their  prey,  but  here 
there  are  no  atoms.  They  work  only  in  one  way,  and 
here  they  have  nothing  to  work  upon.  They  cannot 
break  in  pieces  that  which  is  not  made  of  breakable 
stuff.  They  cannot  separate  the  inseparable. 

In  presence  of  the  inward  mental  self,  the  agencies 
of  dissolution  are  impotent.  By  the  molecular,  the 
nonmolecular  is  unassailable.  Its  destructive  forces 
can  find  no  point  at  which  to  deliver  their  attack. 
The  probability  is,  therefore,  that  no  attack  will  be 
delivered,  and  that  the  inward  mental  self,  the  soul, 
will  survive  the  last  adventure,  unaffected  by  the 
processes  of  bodily  decay. 

Continued  existence  is  foreshadowed  by  pre-existence. 

Since  the  inward  mental  self  is  made  of  different 
stuff,  it  is  not  a  product  of  the  body,  but  must  be  the 


98  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

product  of  something  else,  in  the  sense  that  electric- 
ity is  not  a  product  of  the  metal  it  magnetizes,  but  is 
a  product  of  something  else.  Being  a  product  of 
something  else  it  existed  somewhere  else  prior  to  its 
junction  with  the  metal  it  magnetizes. 

Is  not  this  likely  to  be  the  case  also  with  the  inward 
mental  self?  Whatever  the  process,  whether  gradual 
or  instantaneous,  by  which  the  soul  was  brought  into 
being  since  it  is  made  of  other  than  bodily  material 
the  agencies  which  brought  it  into  being  were  other 
than  bodily  agencies. 

Consequently,  there  must  have  been,  one  would 
think,  a  moment  before  soul-germ  and  body-germ, 
before  the  embryonic  consciousness  and  the  embryonic 
material  principle  entered  into  association,  a  moment 
when  they  existed  independently. 

If  the  soul  existed  independently  before  its  associa- 
tion with  the  body  began,  its  ability  to  exist  indepen- 
dently after  that  association  is  brought  to  an  end  is 
at  least  a  reasonable  supposition,  with  the  difference 
that  this  further  existence  will  be  no  longer  that  of  a 
mere  sack  of  possibilities,  but  of  an  individualized 
being,  equipped  with  faculties  drawn  forth  and  devel- 
oped by  its  earthly  experiences. 

Continued  existence  is  probable  because  the  soul  is  a 
producer  of  energy. 

The  soul  is  a  producer  of  energy  for  the  reason  that 
it  causes  things  to  happen. 

My  hat  is  hanging  on  the  peg.  I  take  it  down. 
With  regard  to  the  hat,  a  change  has  occurred,  and  I 
am  the  author  of  the  change. 

This  illustrates  what  is  meant  by  causing  things  to 
happen.  We  mean  that  we  produce  change  of  some 


99 


kind.  The  change  thus  produced  is  called  an  effect. 
The  changes  I  am  able  to  produce  are  countless  in 
number  and  endless  in  variety.  Yet,  they  are  all 
brought  about  in  the  same  way.  In  every  case  I 
exert  myself.  By  this  I  mean  that  I  employ  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  force,  put  forth  a  certain  amount  of 
energy.  There  may  be  much  or  little,  it  may  be 
emitted  spontaneously,  or  employed  with  care  and 
deliberation,  but,  always,  when  I  produce  change,  I 
put  forth  a  certain  amount  of  force,  energy,  momen- 
tum, mental  or  physical.  In  causing  things  to  happen, 
I  exercise  originating  power. 

Few  of  us,  probably,  question  the  truth  of  this.  It  is 
accepted  as  a  self-evident  fact,  almost  universally. 
Instinctively,  we  take  it  for  granted,  and  experience 
bears  us  out.  By  some  writers,  however,  it  is  disputed. 

We  deceive  ourselves,  they  tell  us.  We  seem  to 
cause  things,  but  it  is  pure  illusion.  In  reality,  we 
do  nothing  of  the  sort.  The  energy  displayed  is  not 
our  energy,  but  that  of  the  universe  passing  through 
us  as  the  electric  current  passes  through  the  wire. 
Our  part  is  that  of  the  wire. 

We  are  mere  machines,  automata,  without  the 
faintest  trace  of  originating  power.  We  contribute 
no  more  to  the  outcome  of  life  than  the  aeolian  harp 
contributes  to  the  music  which  the  winds  of  heaven 
call  forth  as  they  blow  over  its  strings. 

This  is  the  doctrine  of  "determinism,"  and  it  has 
much  in  its  favor.  It  is  symmetrical,  can  be  dealt  with 
on  exact  and  mathematical  lines,  adapts  itself  to  the 
scientific  scheme  of  things,  and  fits  into  the  rigid 
natural  order. 

Still,  plausible  though  it  be,  it  will  not  stand  the 
test,  which  demands  that  a  theory  shall  explain  all 
the  facts.  Determinism  fails  to  explain  all  the  facts. 


100  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

It  fails  to  give  any  rational  account  of  the  existence 
of  the  feeling  itself,  of  how  it  is  that  the  fundamental 
instincts  of  the  race  impel  us  to  regard  ourselves  as 
possessing  a  real  power  of  initiative,  or  of  causation. 
The  determinist  says  there  is  no  ground  for  such  a 
notion.  How  then,  could  it  have  established  itself 
so  firmly? 

Common  sense  affirms  doggedly  and  obstinately, 
that  these  instincts  are  sound,  and  that  within  certain 
limits  we  can  actually  put  forth  power  or  energy,  and 
so  cause  things  to  happen. 

As  proof  of  this,  common  sense  points  to  the  fact 
that  we  are  able  to  overcome  obstacles. 

In  an  article  entitled  "The  Forest,"  (Outlook, 
June  13,  1903),  S.  E.  White  describes  the  difficulty 
of  carrying  camp  equipage. 

"The  first  time  I  did  any  packing,  I  had  a  hard 
time  stumbling  a  few  hundred  feet  with  just  fifty 
pounds  on  my  back.  By  the  end  of  the  same  trip  I 
could  carry  a  hundred  pounds  and  a  lot  of  miscel- 
laneous traps  like  canoe  poles,  and  guns,  without 
serious  inconvenience,  and  over  a  long  portage.  But 
at  the  start  packing  is  as  near  infernal  punishment 
as  mundane  conditions  can  compass.  Sixteen  brand 
new  muscles  ache  at  first  dully,  then  sharply,  then 
intolerably,  until  it  seems  you  cannot  bear  it  another 
second.  You  are  unable  to  keep  your  feet.  A  stagger 
means  an  effort  at  recovery,  and  an  effort  at  recovery 
means  that  you  trip  when  you  place  your  feet,  and 
that  means,  if  you  are  lucky  enough  not  to  be  thrown, 
an  extra  tweak  for  every  one  of  the  sixteen  new  mus- 
cles. At  first  you  rest  every  time  you  feel  tired.  Then 
you  begin  to  feel  tired  every  fifty  feet.  Then  you 
have  to  do  the  best  you  can,  and  prove  the  pluck 
that  is  in  you. 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  101 

Mr.  Tom  Friant,  an  old  woodsman  of  wide  experi- 
ence, has  often  told  me  with  relish  of  his  first  try  at 
carrying.  He  had  about  sixty  pounds  and  his  com- 
panion double  that  amount.  Mr.  Friant  stood  it  for 
a  few  hundred  yards  and  then  sat  down.  He  could 
not  have  moved  another  step  if  a  gun  had  been  at 
his  ear. 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  his  companion. 

"Dell,"  said  Friant,  "I'm  all  in.  I  can't  navigate. 
Here's  where  I  quit." 

"Can't  you  carry  her  any  further?" 

"Not  an  inch." 

"AVell  pile  her  on,  I'll  carry  her  for  you." 

Friant  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  in  silent  amaze- 
ment. "Do  you  mean  to  say  you  are  going  to  carry 
your  pack  and  mine  too?" 

"That's  what  I  mean  to  say.  I'll  do  it  if  I  have 
to." 

Friant  drew  a  long  breath. 

"Well,"  said  he  at  last,  "If  a  little  sawed  off  cuss 
like  you  can  wiggle  under  a  hundred  and  eighty,  I 
guess  I  can  make  it  under  sixty." 

"That's  right,"  said  Dell  imperturbably,  "If  you 
think  you  can,  you  can." 

"And  I  did,"  ends  Friant  with  a  chuckle. 

Therein  lies  the  whole  secret.  The  work  is  irksome, 
sometimes  even  painful,  but  if  you  think  you  can  do 
it,  you  can,  for  though  great  is  the  protest  of  the 
human  frame  against  what  it  considers  abuse,  greater 
is  the  power  of  a  man's  grit." 

Is  it  imaginable  that  any  influence  in  heaven  or 
on  earth  could  shake  the  conviction  of  a  man  so 
situated,  that  energy  was  contributed,  and  that  he 
himself  was  the  contributor? 

But  the  proof  of  proofs,  the  decisive  testimony  that 


102  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

we  do  really  contribute  the  energy  which  causes 
things  to  happen,  is  the  evidence  afforded  by  our 
moral  experiences. 

Everyone  feels  that  he  ought  to  do  right.  The 
sensation  is  not  of  compulsion,  but  of  persuasion.  As 
we  are  under  no  necessity  to  do  right,  so  we  are  under 
no  necessity  to  do  wrong.  We  can  always  decline  to 
do  it  if  we  try  hard  enough.  We  are  in  every  case 
masters  of  the  situation. 

Nothing  in  the  whole  range  of  human  life  is  more 
certain  than  that,  in  moral  decisions,  he  who  makes 
the  decision  does  so  in  very  truth,  the  action  has  its 
root  and  beginning  in  him. 

In  spite  of  ourselves,  we  hold  him  responsible,  and 
give  him  the  credit  or  the  blame.  In  our  innermost 
souls  we  cannot  help  believing  that  it  really  was  he 
who  lifted  the  latch,  and  opened  the  door,  and  sent 
the  impulse  out  upon  its  errand  of  mercy  or  the 
contrary,  that  it  really  was  he  who,  exercising  his 
prerogative  of  free  judgment,  decided  nobly  or  basely. 

When  we  are  brought  into  contact  with  brave  deeds 
we  greet  them  not  with  the  coldly  judicial  approval 
we  should  bestow  on  a  smoothly  working  piece  of 
clockwork,  but  with  an  enthusiastic  reverence  and 
admiration,  called  forth  by  an  instinctive  conviction 
that  the  merit  of  the  deed  belongs  to  the  brave  man 
and  not  to  some  ulterior  power  working  through  him. 

Nothing  can  really  persuade  us  that  the  hero  of  the 
following  incident  was  a  mere  machine  acting  under 
mechanical  compulsion.  On  the  contrary,  we  simply 
cannot  help  regarding  him  as  a  being  before  whose 
masterful  will  nature  herself  was  powerless. 

The  troops  holding  the  farmhouse  of  Huguemont, 
on  the  field  of  Waterloo,  were  short  of  ammunition. 
Two  wagon  loads  were  despatched  to  supply  the 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  103 

need.  Approaching  the  place,  they  found  the  sur- 
rounding hedge  on  fire. 

Without  considering  the  danger,  the  driver  of  the 
first  wagon  lashed  his  terrified  and  struggling  horses 
through  the  burning  heap,  but  the  flames  catching 
the  powder,  it  exploded,  and  in  an  instant  shattered 
man,  horses,  and  wagon  into  ten  thousand  fragments. 

The  second  driver  paused,  appalled  by  his  com- 
rade's fate.  Every  instinct  of  the  natural  man  urged 
him  to  the  rear.  Then  the  conquering  power  of  the 
soul  asserted  itself.  Observing  that  the  flames  were 
beaten  back  a  moment  by  the  explosion,  and  that 
this  gave  him  one  desperate  chance,  he  crushed  down 
his  fears,  and  sending  his  horses  at  the  smouldering 
breach,  amid  the  deafening  cheers  of  the  garrison, 
landed  his  perilous  cargo  safely  within,  while  the 
flames  rose  behind  him  with  redoubled  fury. 

Can  any  one  believe  that  a  deed  like  this  was  done 
without  the  expenditure  of  energy,  or  that  the  hero 
himself  was  not  the  source  of  the  energy  expended? 

If  the  heroes  we  revere  were  the  instruments  of 
necessity,  if  they  were  like  the  phenomena  of  nature, 
and  did  what  they  did  by  the  force  of  gravitation,  or 
by  chemical  cohesion,  or  by  the  rigid  laws  of  mechan- 
ical motion,  we  should  no  more  offer  them  our  homage, 
or  acknowledge  them  as  meritorious,  than  we  should 
the  winds  and  waves  and  falling  rain.  How  absurd  to 
pay  homage  to  a  steam  engine,  or  to  offer  our  allegi- 
ance to  a  telephone,  yet  it  would  be  not  one  whit  more 
absurd  than  to  do  so  to  a  hero  who  was  heroic  merely 
through  the  force  of  circumstances,  or  the  pressure  of 
inherited  tendencies.  In  our  hearts  we  are  assured 
that  those  who  rouse  our  enthusiasm  by  self-sacrificing 
courage  are  not  the  slaves  of  circumstance  and  tend- 
ency, but  that  the  force,  impulse,  initiative  power, 


104  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

energy,  which  achieved  the  heroic  deeds,  came  from 
and  originated  in  these  people. 

Consider  again,  what  takes  place  when,  instead  of 
rising  to  our  moral  obligations,  we  beat  a  retreat  and 
fail  to  meet  them.  In  order  to  save  ourselves  trouble, 
or  to  escape  a  disagreeable  experience,  we  shirk  our 
duty,  and  depart  from  the  straight  path  of  honor.  As 
a  consequence,  we  are  haunted  by  a  peculiar  sensa- 
tion. The  feeling  is  something  more  than  vexation, 
or  irritation.  It  is  an  inward  sense  of  unworthiness, 
accompanied  by  a  passionate  desire  to  return  to  the 
straight  path  and  to  undo  what  has  been  done,  and 
make  atonement.  This  peculiar  sensation  is  what  is 
meant  by  contrition,  or  remorse. 

We  are  aware  that  we  have  done  something  we  need 
not  have  done,  and  ought  not  to  have  done,  and  for 
which,  therefore,  we  are  to  blame,  and  are  culpably 
responsible. 

Now  such  a  feeling,  like  everything  in  the  universe, 
must  have  an  adequate  cause,  and  this  cannot  be 
found  in  the  impulse  of  necessity.  If  we  had  been 
compelled  of  necessity  to  do  what  we  did,  if  there  had 
been  no  help  for  it,  if  we  had  had  no  choice,  and  had 
exercised  no  initiative,  that  is  to  say,  if  the  energy 
which  produced  the  result  had  its  source  not  in  us, 
but  in  some  power  beyond  us,  working  through  us  as 
its  instrument,  then,  we  should  not  be  the  real  doers 
of  the  deed,  we  should  not  be  responsible  for  it.  In 
that  case  there  would  have  been  nothing  out  of  which 
a  feeling  of  remorse  could  grow.  Contrition  would 
have  been  not  only  beside  the  mark,  it  never  could 
have  come  into  existence.  The  fact  that  we  do  actually 
have  such  a  feeling  is  proof  that  we  accmplished  that 
which  alone  can  produce  such  a  feeling,  namely,  an 
act  of  which  we  are  the  actual  source  and  origin,  and 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  105 

for  which,  in  consequence,  we  are  genuinely  respon- 
sible. 

When  I  have  borne  false  witness  against  my  neigh- 
bor, or  have  taken  away  my  friend's  good  name,  a 
knowledge  of  my  share  in  the  misery  produced  flames 
up  within,  and  sears  my  heart  with  an  awareness  of 
responsibility  for  a  shameful  wrong.  Outwardly,  I 
may  deny  my  guilt.  I  may  deceive  my  fellow  men. 
I  find  it  an  impossibility  to  deceive  myself.  Notwith- 
standing the  sophistries  with  which  I  strive  to  weave 
a  veil  before  my  inward  eye,  the  glaring  truth  cannot 
be  hid.  I  know  that  I  did  this  thing,  with  a  knowledge 
that  is  forced  upon  me.  In  my  heart  I  am  perfectly 
well  aware  that  my  causal  efficacy  is  a  fact. 

Would  Othello  have  admitted  any  connection  be- 
tween his  passionate  will  and  the  corpse  upon  the  bed, 
if  he  could  have  helped  it?  He  stood  self -convicted 
by  the  sudden  uprising  of  an  overwhelming  con- 
sciousness of  guilt.  He  knew  what  had  been  his  in- 
tention, that  from  his  intention  issued  the  energy 
which  did  the  fatal  work,  was  brought  home  to  him, 
not  so  much  by  the  sight  of  the  waxen  features  and  the 
glazed  eye,  (if  these  had  been  all,  such  is  the  constitu- 
tion of  the  human  mind,  he  might  have  argued  himself 
out  of  it,  have  persuaded  himself  it  was  not  through 
him  she  died,)  but  by  an  accusing  sense  of  sin,  from 
which  there  was  no  escape.  Would  he  have  slit  his 
throat  if  he  had  been  able  to  convince  himself  that 
Desdemona's  corpse  was  merely  a  circumstance  con- 
comitant with  his  presence  in  the  room?  He  knew 
himself  the  cause,  and  in  a  frenzy  of  remorse  thrust 
the  dagger  home. 

Although  I  may  have  no  immediate  knowledge  of 
the  various  links  that  connect  the  resolution  in  my 
mind  with  the  subsequent  movement  in  my  muscles, 


106  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

in  moral  situations  I  have  immediate  knowledge  of 
my  causal  responsibility.  I  am  compelled  to  recog- 
nize that  from  me,  and  from  nowhere  else,  issued  the 
energy  which  produced  the  effect.  My  responsibility 
in  the  case  is  one  of  those  things  that  cannot  be  other- 
wise. 

Thus,  the  consciousness  of  causality,  the  conscious- 
ness that  we  are  responsible  sources  of  energy,  aroused 
by  the  putting  forth  of  effort  to  overcome  obstacles, 
is  reenforced  by  our  moral  experiences.  It  is  no  longer 
a  probably  sound  conclusion,  it  becomes  irresistible 
truth  from  which  we  cannot  get  away. 

Doubtless  a  considerable,  perhaps  the  greater  part 
of  our  activities,  is  predetermined.  Heredity  and 
environment  help  or  hinder,  make  it  easier  or  harder 
to  exercise  our  prerogative  aright.  All  we  affirm  is 
that  they  do  not  monopolize  the  field,  that  there  are 
still  many  occasions,  and  these  the  most  vital,  when  to 
us  alone,  belongs  the  privilege  of  imparting  the  initial 
impulse.  In  such  instances,  the  impulse,  the  energy, 
which  achieves  the  effect,  comes  from  me,  from  my 
mind  or  soul,  with  the  result,  that  in  such  instances, 
my  soul  is  something  more  than  a  medium  through 
which  energy  passes,  it  is  a  source  of  energy,  no  mere 
storage  battery,  but  a  power-house,  a  genuine  energy 
producer. 

How  is  this  extraordinary  fact  to  be  interpreted? 
It  cannot  be  fully  interpreted.  The  heart  and  core  of 
the  matter  is  beyond  us,  as  Spencer  would  say,  "un- 
knowable," nevertheless,  we  may  discern  certain  of 
its  implications. 

1.  Since  we  are  producers  of  energy,  and  since  the 
universe  is  a  product  of  energy,  we  produce  that  which 
produces  the  universe.  Our  productivity  is  a  factor 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  107 

in  the  work  of  creation.  We  are  among  the  artificers 
of  nature.  We  contribute  to  the  general  output. 

Our  contribution  possesses  a  peculiar  quality. 
Nothing  is  more  certain  than  that  every  individual  is 
different  from  every  other  individual.  Each  human 
soul  is  unique.  Consequently,  its  contribution  to  the 
general  output  is  unique. 

Uniqueness  means  that  of  which  there  is  only  one. 
It  cannot  be  replaced.  Its  loss  is  irreparable.  Each 
soul's  contribution  being  unique,  and  its  loss,  in  con- 
sequence, irreparable,  the  weight  of  probability  is 
against  the  occurrence  of  such  loss. 

In  the  case  of  the  contribution  of  the  soul,  the  loss 
perhaps,  is  so  insignificant  that  its  irreparableness 
matters  nothing.  In  a  masterpiece, —  and  surely  the 
universe  is  a  masterpiece, —  no  part  can  be  regarded 
as  insignificant.  Every  line,  tint,  bar,  phrase,  word, 
is  vital.  In  the  "  Ode  on  a  Grecian  Urn,"  for  example, 
each  syllable  contributes  a  unique  element,  not  one 
can  be  changed  without  injuring  the  whole. 

So,  it  seems  reasonable  to  believe,  is  each  soul 
essential  to  the  masterpiece  of  the  kosmic  artist. 

Moreover,  may  it  not  be  that  the  soul's  con- 
tribution is  of  greater  importance  than  we  have 
imagined? 

While  the  individual  is  a  minute  speck,  a  microscopic 
atom,  each  individual  seems  to  be  endowed  with 
potentialities  which  so  far  as  can  be  seen  are  limitless, 
with  capacities  susceptible  of  measureless  expansion 
and  development. 

The  tiny  spring  welling  up  among  the  stones  on  the 
hill  side  has  in  it  the  promise  of  a  mighty  river.  The 
indications  are  that  so  it  is  with  the  soul  of  man. 
Give  it  time  enough,  and  there  is  scarcely  anything  of 
which  it  may  not  become  capable. 


108  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

To  lose  even  a  single  soul,  therefore,  is  to  lose  not 
only  a  unique  power,  one  that  cannot  be  replaced  or 
reproduced,  but  a  power  of  infinite  possibilities.  It 
seems  unlikely  that  such  forfeiture  of  possibilities 
will  be  permitted. 

2.  Since  we  are  producers  of  energy,  the  amount  of 
energy  in  the  universe  will  depend,  in  some  degree  at 
least,  on  our  productivity.  Were  we  to  be  destroyed, 
the  energy  of  the  universe  would  be,  by  the  amount  of 
our  productivity,  reduced.  But,  we  are  told  that 
according  to  the  law  of  conservation,  the  total  of 
energy  in  the  universe  is  constant,  always  the  same. 
This  being  so,  the  destruction  of  even  a  single  soul 
would  break  the  law,  and  upset  the  balance.  Con- 
sequently, it  is  probable  that  not  even  a  single  soul 
will  be  destroyed. 

Continued  existence  is  indicated  by  the  analogy  of  nature. 

"That  which  thou  sowest  is  not  quickened  except 
it  die,"  expresses  a  principle  of  universal  application 
in  the  realm  of  nature.  There,  death  is  invariably 
the  basis  of  life,  the  antecedent  of  some  new  form  of 
vitality. 

A  winter  silence  falls  on  stream  and  wood.  Murmur 
of  water,  rustle  of  leaves,  insect's  hum,  footfall  of 
prowling  beast,  splash  of  leaping  fish,  are  hushed. 
Nature  is  benumbed.  In  the  grip  of  an  iron  frost  the 
world  lies  dead. 

Yet  even  as  it  dies,  a  change  begins.  Round  about 
the  tree  roots,  and  beneath  the  surface,  everywhere, 
an  invisible  activity  is  set  going,  energy  is  stored  up, 
the  first  steps  are  taken  in  the  process  of  converting 
lifeless  into  living  matter. 

Presently  the  snow  melts,  the  icy  seal  is  broken,  the 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  109 

brown  of  hill  and  dale  gives  place  to  green,  the  trees 
burst  into  bud,  the  air  vibrates  with  song,  hibernating 
creatures  awake,  the  drone  of  bees  is  heard.  From  the 
death  of  winter  issues  the  life  of  spring. 

As  with  the  succession  of  the  seasons  so  with  the 
evolution  of  living  forms.  Every  stage  of  the  evolu- 
tionary process  is  rooted  in  death.  The  genesis  of 
every  species  had  its  rise  in  the  destruction  of  some 
preceding  species.  In  turn  this  new  breed  dwindles, 
and  grows  less,  and  dies,  only  to  usher  in  more  highly 
organized  varieties. 

Passing  from  the  history  of  general  movements  to 
that  of  individuals,  we  find  the  same  predominating 
principle  of  life  out  of  death. 

The  seed  disintegrates  before  the  young  shoot 
appears,  first  the  blade,  then  the  ear,  then  the  full 
grain  in  the  ear.  The  egg  is  destroyed  that  the  chick 
may  be  hatched.  Soon  the  chick  vanishes,  and  out 
of  its  decease,  issues  the  mature  bird. 

The  most  striking  instance  is  the  progressive  trans- 
formation known  to  naturalists  as  metamorphosis, 
occurring  in  the  insect  world.  By  a  series  of  deaths 
is  brought  about  a  series  of  changes  into  new  forms  of 
life. 

The  milkweed  butterfly  lays  its  eggs  on  milkweed 
leaves.  After  an  existence  of  three  or  four  days  the 
eggs  are  destroyed  and  out  of  their  destruction  is 
hatched  a  wormlike  object,  greenish  yellow,  ringed 
with  black,  furnished  with  eight  pairs  of  legs,  and  pow- 
erful jaws.  It  eats  voraciously  and  grows  rapidly. 
Its  outer  covering  then  dies,  hardens,  cracks,  and  from 
the  ruin  issues  a  larger  worm.  After  a  brief  interval 
there  is  another  death  and  another  shedding  of  the  out- 
worn shell.  Again  the  process  is  repeated.  Yet  once 
more  the  outer  covering  hardens,  but  now  there  is  no 


110  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

breaking  forth  of  a  new  and  larger  caterpillar.  This 
time  death  overtakes  both  the  covering  and  the  cov- 
ered. The  active  wormlike  crawling  thing  is  still.  His 
skin  has  become  his  coffin.  In  place  of  the  living  cater- 
pillar there  is  nothing  but  an  apparently  lifeless 
chrysalis.  The  caterpillar  is  actually  dead.  He  is 
never  seen  again.  His  death  however  proves  to  be 
the  basis  of  life,  for  as  we  know,  from  the  quiescent 
chrysalis  comes  forth  in  due  time  a  radiant  creature 
winged  and  beautiful. 

Although  this  winged  creature  itself  dies,  in  dying  it 
leaves  behind,  in  the  shape  of  a  deposit  of  eggs,  the 
promise  and  potency  of  new  life. 

In  a  modified  form  this  same  law  of  progressive 
transformations,  every  transformation  arising  out  of 
the  destruction  of  a  previous  transformation,  governs 
the  life  history  of  human  beings. 

"We  trace  each  human  life,"  says  C.  T.  Stock  well,* 
"back  to  what  physiologists  know  as  the  graafiancell. 
This  has  a  membranous  external  body  and  a  nuclear 
inner  body.  The  inner  or  nuclear  body  develops  and 
finally  leaves  its  old  environment,  the  membranous 
part  of  the  graafian  cell,  and  is  born  into  a  new  and 
independent  existence. 

"It  is  now  called  an  ovum,  and  the  f  ollicular  envelope 
which  constituted  its  former  external  body  dies  and 
becomes  entirely  disorganized,  the  life  principle  being 
transferred  to  the  ovum.  This  in  turn  is  found  to 
possess  an  external  and  an  internal  or  nuclear  body. 
Being  vitalised  by  the  paternal  life,  the  ovum  now 
passes  through  a  course  of  development  analagous  to 
that  of  the  graafian  cell.  Its  internal  or  nuclear 
centre  develops  into  an  embryo,  while  its  external 

*  "Evolution  of  Immortality"  p.  125  (adapted.) 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  111 

environment  develops  into  the  placental  mem- 
branes. 

"Finally,  the  embryo  leaves  this  placental  environ- 
ment or  body,  and  is  born  into  a  new  and  independent 
existence,  into  the  life  of  the  world,  while  the  placental 
body  dies  and  becomes  entirely  disorganized." 

The  series  of  deaths  and  resurrections  is  not  yet 
ended.  Metamorphosis  goes  on.  From  the  instant 
of  birth  an  impulse  carries  forward  the  mind  of  the 
child  and  the  body  of  the  child,  until  a  moment  arrives 
when  the  child's  mind  and  body  exist  no  longer.  In 
their  stead  are  the  mind  and  body  of  youth.  Still  the 
impulse  gathers  way,  and  bye  and  bye  youth  comes 
to  an  end  and  its  place  is  taken  by  the  mind  and  body 
of  maturity.  After  a  certain  period  maturity  comes 
to  an  end.  A  moment  arrives  when  the  partnership 
of  body  and  soul  is  dissolved.  Their  association 
ceases.  How  far  in  this  case  does  the  death  of  the 
old  form  the  basis  of  a  new  association? 

Is  it  not  a  rational  conjecture  that  as  during  the 
placental  state,  the  embryo  formed  for  itself  a  new 
kind  of  body,  suitable  to  the  new  state  into  which 
it  passed  at  the  change  called  birth,  so  during  our 
present  existence,  the  inner  life  principle,  the  mind, 
the  soul,  is  forming  for  itself  a  new  body  suitable  to 
a  new  existence  into  which  it  will  pass  at  the  change 
called  death? 

"May  it  not  be,"  says  Stockwell,  "that  in  nature's 
transformation  act  falsely  called  death,  she  is  simply 
relieving  the  natural  body  of  its  functional  activity 
of  embodying  an  individual  personality,  and  trans- 
ferring that  individual  personality  to  an  etheric 
body  already  present  and  at  least  potentially  pre- 
pared to  receive  it?" 

"Death,"  says  Butler,  "may  in  some  sort  and  in 


112  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

some  respects  answer  to  our  birth,  which  is  not  a 
suspension  of  the  faculties  which  we  had  before  it, 
or  a  total  change  of  the  state  of  life  in  which  we 
existed  when  in  the  womb,  but  a  continuation  of 
both,  with  such  and  such  great  alterations.  "Nay, 
for  aught  we  know  of  our  present  life  and  death, 
death  may  immediately  in  the  natural  course  of 
things  put  us  into  a  higher  and  more  enlarged  state 
of  life,  as  our  birth  does,  a  state  in  which  our  capaci- 
ties and  sphere  of  perception,  and  of  action,  may  be 
much  greater  than  at  present." 

"Perhaps,"  wrote  Victor  Hugo,  "I  am  the  tadpole 
of  an  archangel."  Analogy  suggests  that  in  a  general 
sense  this  surmise  may  not  be  far  wrong. 

Throughout  nature,  so  far  as  we  can  see,  the  law 
appears  to  be  that  death  is  the  starting  point  of  a 
further  evolution  of  life,  so  long  as  there  is  anything 
further  to  be  evolved. 

The  principle  of  progressive  growth  remains  opera- 
tive so  long  as  there  is  anything  to  grow. 

//  the  soul  has  capacities  for  development  still  unused, 
then  analogy  denotes  the  likelihood  that  the  end  of 
the  old  conditions  of  progress  will  be  the  beginning 
of  further  progress,  under  new  conditions,  the  basis 
of  a  new  life  in  which  the  soul  will  be  as  inde- 
pendent of  the  dead  body,  as  we  are  independent 
of  our  former  placental  bodies.  That  the  soul  pos- 
sesses such  unused  capacities  is  beyond  dispute. 

"What  a  piece  of  work  is  man.  How  noble  in 
reason,  how  infinite  in  faculties,  in  form  and  moving, 
how  express  and  admirable,  in  action,  how  like  an 
angel,  in  apprehension  how  like  a  god." 

The  more  closely  we  examine  the  human  mind  the 
more  clearly  apparent  does  it  become,  that  within  it, 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  113 

lies  hid  a  vast  fund  of  undeveloped  qualities.  Each 
stage  of  mental  progress  serves  but  to  reveal  the 
aptitude  for  still  further  progress.  The  more  a  man 
learns,  the  more  he  finds  there  is  to  learn,  and  the 
more  capable  he  becomes  of  learning  it. 

"So  many  worlds  so  much  to  do, 
So  little  done  such  things  to  be." 

At  the  end  of  his  work,  Newton  tells  us,  he  felt  as 
though  he  were  still  in  the  childhood  of  his  intellectual 
career,  as  though  what  he  had  done  were  as  nothing  to 
what  he  might  do  were  time  and  opportunity  forth- 
coming. 

In  demonstrating  to  his  fellow  men  the  marvelous 
nature  of  the  universe,  he  demonstrated  also  the 
marvelous  nature  of  the  instrument  by  which  the 
demonstration  was  made.  He  showed  that  the  mind 
of  man  is  an  organism  endowed  with  faculties  of 
unlimited  sweep  and  range. 

"The  soul  of  man  is  larger  than  the  sky, 

Deeper  than  ocean,  or  the  abysmal  dark 
Of  the  unfathomed  centre.     Like  the  ark 
Which  in  its  sacred  hold  uplifted  high 
O'er  the  drowned  hills  the  human  family 
And  stock  reserved  of  every  living  kind. 
So  in  the  compass  of  the  single  mind 
The  seeds  and  pregnant  forms  in  essence  lie, 
That  make  all  worlds. 

[Hartley  Coleridge] 

In  addition,  we  are  now  confronted  with  a  series 
of  facts  which  seem  to  attest  still  further  potentialities 
in  the  human  constitution. 

Modern  psychology  demonstrates  the  existence  of 
a  hitherto  unsuspected  department,  a  sort  of  annex 
to,  or  extension  of,  our  ordinary  being. 


114  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

A  subliminal  being,  or  self,  or  consciousness,  as  it  is 
called. 

Through  the  science  of  optics  we  have  learned  that, 
"beyond  each  end  of  the  prismatic  ribbon  of  the 
solar  spectrum  are  ether  waves,  of  which  our  retina 
takes  no  cognisance.  Beyond  the  red  end  are  waves 
we  recognise  not  as  light,  but  as  heat.  Beyond  the 
violet  end  are  waves  still  more  mysterious,  whose 
very  existence  men  for  ages  never  suspected,  and 
whose  intimate  potencies  are  still  but  obscurely 
known." 

Even  so  it  is  with  the  mind  of  man.  Enough  has 
been  achieved  by  experimental  psychology  to  prove 
that  beyond  both  ends  of  our  conscious  spectrum  lie 
faculties  transcending  in  range  and  force  those  in 
normal  use.  The  self  we  know  is  but  the  fragment 
of  a  larger  self  which,  so  far  as  investigated,  seems 
endowed  with  a  more  delicate  sensitiveness,  respond- 
ing to  stimuli  unfelt  by  our  ordinary  work-a-day 
consciousness. 

Yet  these  apparently  immense  intellectual  and 
imaginative  capacities,  incalculably  beyond  those  of 
average  intelligence,  remain  almost  in  abeyance. 

Why  then  are  they  here  ?  To  what  purpose  have  we 
been  equipped  with  a  whole  arsenal  of  weapons 
which  owing  to  the  environment  and  conditions  of 
this  life,  we  can  but  occasionally,  and  partially,  turn 
to  account? 

When  death  brings  its  association  with  the  body 
to  an  end,  the  soul  is  still  in  possession  of  a  great  fund 
of  unused  faculty.  If  the  analogy  of  nature  hold 
true,  this  suggests  that  the  death  of  the  body  is  the 
starting  point  of  a  new  stage  of  existence  for  the 
soul,  an  existence  in  which  its  still  unexhausted  powers 
will  find  their  field  of  exercise. 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  115 

Nature  supplies  the  fledgling  with  rudimentary 
wings,  the  suckling  with  rudimentary  teeth.  In  the 
life  of  nest  and  nursery  there  is  no  use  for  these 
organs.  They  are  not  demanded  by  the  conditions 
which  surround  the  young  bird,  and  the  babe. 

Time  shows,  however,  that  nature  has  not  worked 
in  vain.  Presently  a  change  occurs.  Bird  and  babe 
enter  a  new  life,  come  under  new  conditions.  Wings 
and  teeth  superfluous  under  the  previous  order  now 
find  their  proper  sphere,  and  play  their  part,  and  put 
forth  the  powers  that  in  them  lie. 

Such  examples  point  at  least  to  the  probability, 
that  when  nature  furnishes  a  faculty  she  furnishes 
also  somewhere,  somewhen,  somehow,  a  place  and 
an  opportunity  for  its  exercise. 

Judging  from  its  structure  and  capacities,  the  soul 
is  made  for  further  life,  from  which  the  legitimate 
inference  is  that  it  will  be  given  further  life. 

We  shall  be  told,  perhaps,  that  the  inference  is  not 
warranted  because  on  all  hands  we  see  the  evidences 
of  nature's  extravagant  waste. 

Out  of  every  fifty  seeds  one  only  attains  fruition. 
Of  every  million  eggs,  laid  by  bird,  fish,  insect,  or 
reptile,  but  a  few  hundred  are  hatched. 

With  regard  to  the  destruction  of  ova,  etc.,  there  is 
much  to  indicate  that  these  contain  nothing  that  is 
not  of  so  rudimentary,  and  therefore  indeterminate, 
an  order,  as  to  be  capable  of  development  in  one 
direction  as  well  as  in  another.  The  experts  seem 
pretty  well  agreed  that  in  the  lower  forms  of  life 
differentiation  has  been  carried  but  a  very  little  way. 

"The  embryos  of  vertebrates,  whether  fish,  tortoise, 
dog,  ape,  or  man,  cannot  be  distinguished  from  one 
another,  so  close  are  the  likenesses  in  outward 
form  and  structure." 


116  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

If  this  be  the  case,  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  the 
destruction  of  such  embryos  would  imply  waste,  or 
deprive  faculties  of  their  fruition. 

In  these  instances  destruction  can  mean  no  more 
than  disintegration  and  readjustment,  and  aptitudes 
so  undeveloped  would  find  their  required  field  and 
opportunity  under  the  new  conditions  as  easily  as 
under  the  old. 

The  embryonic  qualities  in  a  grain  of  wheat,  for 
example,  may  be  in  a  condition  so  undetermined  as 
to  be  capable  of  development  along  more  than  one 
line.  Which  line  it  shall  be  depends  on  the  char- 
acter of  the  external  influences  brought  to  bear. 

In  one  grain  the  development  might  be  toward 
reproduction,  while  in  forty -nine  others,  owing  to  a 
different  set  of  external  influences,  it  might  be  toward, 
let  us  say,  alimentation,  resulting  in  the  forty-nine 
becoming  flour  and  so  entering  into  the  substance  of 
animal  tissue  instead  of  into  the  substance  of  a  grow- 
ing crop.  In  either  case,  or  in  any  conceivable  alter- 
native, we  should  hardly  have  the  right  to  say  that 
the  possibilities  foreshadowed  in  the  embryonic 
qualities  of  the  grain  failed  of  their  fulfilment. 

The  same  applies  to  the  animal  kingdom.  If  the 
embryos  of  vertebrates  be  indistinguishable  from 
one  another,  then  given  a  million  such  embryos,  and 
given  a  shiver  of  energy  from  without  traversing  their 
structure  and  starting  them  on  the  road  of  evolution, 
it  is  not  essential  that  they  should  take  any  one 
particular  path  in  order  to  complete  their  course  and 
fulfil  their  destiny. 

This  will  be  effected  equally  well,  whether  they 
turn  out  flesh,  fish,  or  fowl,  or  something  which  is 
none  of  these. 

If  some  grow  into  dogs,  and  others  into  apes,  it 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  117 

cannot  be  said  of  the  apes  the  promise  of  their  dog 
qualities  was  not  fulfilled,  nor  of  the  dogs,  the  promise 
of  their  ape  qualities  was  not  fulfilled,  because  what 
was  contained  in  those  embryos  was  the  promise 
neither  of  dog  nor  ape,  but  simply,  so  far  as  we  can 
tell,  the  possibility  in  about  equal  degree  of  becoming 
dog  or  ape,  or  of  passing  by  disintegration  and  re- 
absorption,  into  something  neither  dog  or  ape. 

Where  a  number  of  alternative  possibilities  are 
open,  it  cannot  be  called  failure  that  in  some  instances 
this,  in  others  that  result  emerges.  Man,  on  the 
other  hand,  has  advanced  so  far  along  the  road  of 
differentiation,  that  for  him,  alternative  possibilities 
are  eliminated.  In  his  case  escape  from  failure  can 
be  secured  only  on  the  condition  that  the  advance 
already  begun,  he  shall  be  enabled  to  continue. 

When  we  reflect  that  human  beings  have  been  pro- 
duced at  the  rate  of  millions  a  year  for  tens  of  thous- 
ands of  years,  and  that  if  the  soul  dies  with  the  body 
not  one  of  all  these  millions  ever  has  reached,  or  ever 
can  rea^h,  any  thing  like  its  full  fruition,  it  seems 
improbable  that  the  soul  will  be  permitted  to  die  with 
the  body.  It  would  mean  the  failure  of  the  work  of 
creation,  not  the  failure  of  a  certain  proportion,  but 
the  absolute  failure  of  the  whole  human  department, 
a  result  irrational  and  unthinkable. 


Continued  existence  is   indicated  by   the  requirements 
of  justice  and  mercy. 

Look  at  life,  examine  its  salient  features,  consider  its 
inequalities.  There  seems  to  be  no  rhyme  or  reason 
in  them.  We  can  discern  no  guiding  principle.  Al- 
though it  is  true  that  taken  in  the  mass,  good  predom- 
inates in  the  world  of  sentient  life,  there  are  tens  of 


118  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

thousands  of  individual  instances  in  which  it  is  very 
far  indeed  from  predominating. 

People  with  the  sensibilities  of  buff  alos  are  born  into 
the  midst  of  elegance  and  luxury,  while  a  Nathaniel 
Hawthorne  has  to  hustle  for  a  dinner,  and  a  Jesus  of 
Nazareth  has  not  where  to  lay  his  head. 

Varieties  of  talent  and  temperament,  even  of  mater- 
ial possessions,  are  to  be  desired.  Were  all  exactly 
alike  society  would  be  less  interesting.  We  do  not 
mind  living  in  a  cottage  while  our  neighbor  inhabits 
a  palace,  if  happiness  be  as  plentiful  in  the  one  as  in 
the  other.  It  can  scarcely  be  maintained  that  this 
is  always  the  case. 

Here  is  the  millionaire's  son  and  here  is  the  son  of 
the  mill  operative.  So  favorable  are  the  surroundings 
of  the  former  that  he  reaps  a  bountiful  harvest  of 
delight  while  the  latter  reaps  hardly  anything  at  all. 
From  the  cradle  to  the  grave  life  for  him  is  a  monoto- 
nous round  of  hard  tasks,  toil,  effort,  expenditure, 
with  the  most  meagre  of  returns. 

Thousands  of  children  are  born  annually  who  are 
blind,  deaf,  and  dumb,  defective  in  mind,  diseased  in 
bone  and  limb.  Heaven  has  given  them  existence, 
but  the  existence  heaven  has  given  them  is  ghastly 
with  wretchedness  and  pain. 

We  have  it  on  the  authority  of  the  Salvation  Army 
that  a  tenth  of  the  population  of  Great  Britain,  or  about 
four  millions,  is  "submerged,"  that  is,  sunk  in  degrad- 
ing penury,  and  Mr.  Robert  Hunter  tells  us  that  in 
the  United  States  there  are  something  like  ten  million 
people  in  a  similar  condition. 

Without  going  outside  the  English  speaking  nations, 
therefore,  we  have  fourteen  million  souls  existing  in  a 
condition  of  chronic  misery.  From  their  more  pros- 
perous neighbors  they  learn  what  happy  homes  and 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  119 

good  food  and  pleasant  surroundings  are  like,  but 
though  they  long  for,  and  endeavor  desperately  to 
obtain,  these  things,  the  rigid  barrier  of  circumstance 
makes  their  efforts  vain.  Do  what  they  may  they  are 
condemned  to  pass  through  life  surrounded  by  comfort, 
yet  themselves  denied  comfort,  perpetually  hungry 
while  the  markets  and  the  stores  are  crammed  with 
food.  Under  these  conditions,  each  year  millions  die 
who,  with  a  yearning  for  happiness  implanted  in  their 
hearts,  have  never  had  that  yearning  satisfied. 

We  have  seen  that  goodness  rules,  that  the  universe 
is  governed  by  a  happiness  producing  power.  It  is 
unthinkable  that  the  miseries  of  mankind  can  be 
regarded  by  such  a  power  otherwise  than  with  sym- 
pathy and  compassion. 

This  thought  is  expressed  by  William  Blake  in 
verses  the  strange  beauty  of  which  must  serve  as  the 
excuse  for  quoting  them  at  length. 

Can  I  see  another's  woe 
And  not  be  in  sorrow  too? 
Can  I  see  another's  grief 
And  not  seek  to  find  relief? 

Can  I  see  a  falling  tear 
And  not  feel  my  sorrow's  share? 
Can  a  father  see  his  child 
Weep,  nor  be  with  sorrow  filled? 

Can  a  mother  sit  and  hear 
An  infant  groan,  an  infant  fear? 
No,  no,  never  can  it  be 
Never,  never,  can  it  be. 

And  can  he  who  smiles  on  all 
Hear  the  wren  with  sorrows  small, 
Hear  the  small  bird's  grief  and  care, 
Hear  the  woes  that  infants  bear, 


120  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

And  not  sit  beside  the  nest 
Pouring  pity  in  their  breast? 
And  not  sit  the  cradle  near 
Weeping  tear  on  infant's  tear? 

And  not  sit  both  night  and  day 
Wiping  all  our  tears  away? 
No,  no,  never  can  it  be, 
Never,  never,  can  it  be. 

He  doth  give  his  joy  to  all, 
He  becomes  an  infant  small, 
He  becomes  a  man  of  woe, 
He  doth  feel  the  sorrow,  too. 

Think  not  thou  canst  sigh  a  sigh 
And  thy  Maker  is  not  by, 
Think  not  thou  canst  weep  a  tear 
And  thy  Maker  is  not  near. 

Oh  he  gives  to  us  his  joy 
That  our  grief  he  may  destroy, 
Till  our  grief  be  fled  and  gone 
He  doth  sit  by  us  and  moan. 

That  the  supreme  power  should  destroy  our  grief  by 
destroying  us  is  incompatible  with  justice  and  mercy. 

Worse  than  bodily  suffering  or  material  loss,  is  the 
poignant  agony  inflicted  by  the  waywardness,  the 
wickedness,  the  unworthiness,  of  those  we  love.  The 
woman  stricken  by  the  villainy  of  the  man  she  wor- 
shipped. The  man  faced  by  the  proof  that  the  woman 
who  has  been  to  him  the  impersonation  of  purity  and 
goodness,  is  in  her  heart  a  wanton.  The  father  and 
mother  crushed  by  the  horror  of  a  daughter's  shame, 
or  sorrowing  comfortless  for  the  lost  prodigal. 

Through  such  causes  tens  of  thousands  of  blameless 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  121 

people  are  rendered  desolate  every  year.  There  is 
but  one  remedy.  Wounds  thus  inflicted,  can  be 
healed  only  by  those  who  made  them,  only  by  the 
repentance,  atonement,  forgiveness,  and  rehabilita- 
tion of  those  by  whom  they  were  caused.  If  the 
grave  be  the  end,  then,  this  never  can  be  accomplished, 
and  injustice  is  done  to  a  multitude  of  innocent  souls. 
Moreover,  there  are  the  sinners  themselves  to  be 
thought  of.  If  death  be  the  end,  they  are  forever 
deprived  of  the  opportunity  to  repent.  It  will  not 
do  to  say  they  had  their  opportunity  here,  this  is  all 
justice  requires.  It  is  not  all  justice  requires.  In 
countless  instances  death  overtakes  the  transgressor 
in  the  full  tide  of  his  wrong  doing.  He  is  snatched 
away  before  he  realizes  the  enormity  of  his  guilt,  or 
realizing  it,  he  dies  too  soon  to  permit  him  to  make 
amends. 

Suppose  two  men  are  competing  for  a  position. 
The  opportunity  comes  to  one  of  them  to  poison  the 
minds  of  those  who  are  to  decide  the  issue,  by  causing 
damaging  reports  to  be  spread  with  regard  to  his 
competitor's  character.  He  is  perfectly  aware  that 
there  is  no  truth  in  these  reports,  and  he  hesitates  to 
perpetrate  so  treacherous  and  base  an  act.  But 
then,  his  whole  future  depends  on  his  obtaining  this 
position.  Success  seems  vital  to  him.  All  is  fair  in 
war,  even  a  blow  below  the  belt,  he  tells  himself. 
This  is  his  chance,  and  he  must  take  it.  Accordingly 
he  turns  a  deaf  ear  to  the  voice  of  conscience  and  pro- 
ceeds to  scatter  his  false,  but  plausible,  insinuations. 
The  result  is  he  wins  the  coveted  place  and  enjoys  a 
career  of  uninterrupted  prosperity,  while  the  other 
man  is  left  out  in  the  cold.  Years  afterward  he  comes 
to  see  his  conduct  in  a  new  light.  Bitter  remorse  and 
shame  fill  his  heart,  he  is  anxious  now  to  restore  every- 


122  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

thing,  to  atone  for  everything,  to  suffer  everything, 
if  need  be,  so  only  justice  be  done  and  the  wrong  righted, 
but  death's  hand  is  laid  upon  his  shoulder  and  it 
is  too  late. 

The  founder  of  Christiantity  laid  it  down  as  a 
fundamental  principle  of  righteousness  that  when 
a  sinner  sincerely  repents  he  shall  be  forgiven.  In 
the  example  cited,  and  it  is  the  type  of  an  innum- 
erable host,  repentance  was  genuine  and  sincere,  yet 
if  death  be  the  end,  forgiveness  and  the  opportunity 
to  make  atonement  are  forever  witheld. 

Criminals  who  enjoy  crime  for  its  own  sake  are  in  all 
probability  but  a  small  class.  The  vast  majority  of 
sinners  fall  into  evil  ways  through  irresolution,  and 
their  irresolution  is  due  to  lack  of  sensitiveness  about 
right  and  wrong.  They  do  not  feel  strongly  enough 
about  the  matter.  There  is  something  they  desire, 
they  perceive  it  may  be  obtained  by  cheating  and 
lying,  and  their  sense  of  the  imperativensss  of  right 
is  not  strong  enough  to  prevent  them  from  resorting 
to  cheating  and  lying. 

The  thief,  the  swindler,  the  drunkard,  the  forger, 
the  seducer,  the  murderer,  are  what  they  are,  in 
ninety-nine  cases  out  of  a  hundred,  not  because  they 
are  wholly  bad,  but  because  they  are  not  quite  good 
enough.  In  ninety -nine  cases  out  of  a  hundred, 
slightly  more  favorable  surroundings,  right  influences 
a  little  further  prolonged,  a  little  more  skilfully 
applied,  would  transform  the  knave  and  the  rogue  into 
a  hero  and  a  saint.  But  in  countless  cases  death  cuts 
the  thread  of  life  before  any  such  ameliorating  in- 
fluences can  be  brought  to  bear. 

If  it  be  possible  to  reform  the  knave  and  the  rogue, 
do  not  justice  and  mercy  require  that  they  shall  be 
reformed? 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  123 

For  this,  the  one  necessary  condition  is  a  continu- 
ance of  their  existence  beyond  the  grave. 

Nor  apart  from  a  life  to  come  can  justice  be  done 
to  those  who  have  suffered  for  righteousness'  sake. 
The  glorious  company  of  the  Apostles,  who  in  every 
age  have  carried  knowledge  to  the  ignorant,  light  to 
those  who  sit  in  darkness,  and  freedom  to  the  slave. 
The  goodly  fellowship  of  the  Prophets,  who  have  faced 
angry  monarchs  and  angry  mobs.  The  noble  army  of 
Martyrs,  who  have  endured  great  tribulation  that 
others  might  have  happiness  and  life.  Brave  souls^ 
who,  faithfully,  patiently,  and  at  cost  to  themselves, 
have  obeyed  the  behests  impressed  upon  them 
by  the  feeling  about  right.  If  righteousness  be  at 
the  heart  of  things,  then  surely  an  obligation  will  be 
felt  at  least  to  acknowledge  the  loyalty  with  which 
its  requirements  have  been  fulfilled. 

In  the  eyes  of  a  good  man,  it  would  be  little  short 
of  a  crime  to  accept  the  labor  and  sacrifices  of  others 
without  rendering  thanks.  A  good  man  would  feel 
bound  to  do  his  utmost  to  show  his  appreciation.  He 
would  feel  not  merely  bound  to  do  it,  he  would  be 
eager,  he  would  rejoice  exceedingly,  to  do  it. 

Can  we  believe  that  the  source  of  all  moral  feeling 
is  less  eager  to  discharge  obligations  than  a  good  man? 

Nevertheless  such  discharge  fails  of  accomplishment 
here  on  earth.  Constantly  do  the  souls  of  the  faithful 
go  down  to  death  with  no  lightening  of  their  burden, 
with  no  whisper  of  acknowledgment  or  well  done. 

If  the  Controller  of  all  things  be  a  power  that  makes 
for  righteousness,  it  is  beyond  belief  that  broken 
hearts  should  go  uncomforted,  the  penitent  unfor- 
given,  sinners  unreformed,  or  devoted  service  remain 
forever  without  acknowledgment. 

It  is  inconceivable  that  the  one  condition  necessary 


124  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

for  bringing  these  things  to  pass,  namely  a  future  life, 
should  be  withheld.  Justice  and  mercy  require  that 
it  should  not  be  withheld. 

Yet  another  reason  why  justice  and  mercy  demand 
that  life  should  be  continued  beyond  the  grave,  is 
the  almost  universal  desire  for  it.  "It  is  better  to 
live  in  a  slum  in  hopes  of  heaven,  than  to  walk  through 
luxury  to  a  ditch  in  the  churchyard."  The  thought 
that  death  is  the  end  may  satisfy  those  who  have 
loved  only  knowledge,  it  can  never  satisfy  those  who 
have  loved  human  souls.  You  may  come  with 
your  philosophy,  and  arrange  your  reason  of  despair, 
never  so  plausibly,  but, 

"That  little  shoe  in  the  corner 

So  worn  and  wrinkled  and  brown, 
With  its  emptyness,  confutes  you, 
And  argues  your  wisdom  down." 

Emerson  in  his  "Thyrsis,"  Browning  in  his  "Pros- 
pice,"  Tennyson  in  his  "In  Memoriam,"  Milton  in 
his  "Lycidas,"  utter  in  exquisite  syllables  the  yearn- 
ing and  the  hope  that  burn  in  the  souls  of  those  from 
whom  death  has  snatched  their  hearts'  treasures. 
An  awakened  desire  for  immortality  results  from 
loving,  because  loving  opens  our  eyes  to  the  worth  of 
life.  Through  loving,  life  becomes  priceless.  We 
can  never  have  enough  of  it.  The  cultivation  of 
friendship,  sympathy,  affection,  stirs  in  us  a  deepened 
wish  for  the  continuance  of  life,  that  the  exercise  of 
our  affections  may  be  continued.  Through  love  and 
friendship  the  immortality  once  languidly  desired 
comes  to  be  passionately  desired.  The  longing  for 
immortality  is  thus  due  to  the  development,  not  of 
the  foolish,  selfish,  immoral,  but  the  sympathetic, 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  125 

and  affectional,  qualities  of  our  nature.  This  has 
come  about  from  the  action  upon  us  of  the  natural 
order.  In  the  last  resort  it  is  due  entirely  to  the 
influence  over  us  of  the  universe. 

So  to  influence  us,  that  the  awakening  of  the  most 
unselfish  and  elevating  of  emotions,  and  the  establish- 
ment of  the  most  beneficial  of  human  relations,  pro- 
duce an  intense  desire  for  a  continued  life  after  death, 
without  any  intention  of  satisfying  that  desire,  would 
seem  to  be  a  peculiarly  hard-hearted  piece  of  deliberate 
cruelty.  Since  the  desire  has  been  aroused  in  us, 
justice  and  mercy  require  that  it  be  satisfied.  With 
goodness  in  the  seat  of  power,  have  we  not  solid 
ground  for  hope  that  it  will  be  satisfied? 

To  restate  in  a  few  words  the  substance  of  the 
foregoing  pages,  we  see  the  expectation  of  a  life  to 
come  rests  on  five  main  considerations. 

1.  Survival  of  the  soul  is  probable,  for  the  reason 
that  not  being  made  of  destructible  material,  it  is 
difficult  to  understand  how  it  can  be  destroyed. 

2.  For  the  reason  that  it  is  a  spring  and  source  of 
energy,  and  its  destruction  would  involve  both  the 
loss  of  a  unique  contribution  to  the  sum  of  things, 
and  a  breach  of  the  law  of  the  conservation  of  energy. 

3.  Because  of  the  probable  preexistence  of  the  soul. 

4.  Because  fathomless  deeps  of  faculty  exist  in 
the  soul,  here  unused  and  unusable,  and  the  analogy 
of  nature  indicates  that  in  such  cases  death  is  the 
basis  of  renewed  life. 

5.  Because  justice  and   mercy  demand  survival, 
and  since  goodness  rules,  the  demands  of  justice  and 
mercy  will  be  met. 

A  presumption,  therefore,  exists  in  favor  of  im- 
mortality. In  the  known  facts,  not  only  is  there 
nothing  that  makes  the  independent  life  of  the  soul 


126  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

impossible,  there  is  much  that  makes  it  probable. 
Reason  and  observation  are  on  the  side  of  faith  in 
the  future. 

Yet  for  some  this  is  not  sufficient.  It  fails  to 
assuage  the  inmost  yearning  of  the  heart.  We  desire 
to  be  convinced  in  a  more  intimate  and  personal 
way.  We  long  for  a  sense  of  full  assurance. 

Sources  of  Certitude. 

This  longed  for  assurance  is  within  our  reach.  The 
obscuring  clouds  may  be  dispersed,  and  a  sense  of 
certitude  obtained,  by  any  one  who  is  willing  to  pay 
the  price.  Certitude  implies  a  feeling  of  reality,  a 
feeling  of  reality  comes  only  with  experience,  and 
experience  is  a  state  of  consciousness  resulting  from 
contact  with  our  surroundings  through  our  five 
senses.  We  may  discourse  to  a  blind  man  about  the 
splendor  of  the  starry  heavens  and  he  may  accept  as 
true  all  we  say.  Nevertheless,  his  state  of  mind  with 
regard  to  what  has  been  described  will  be  compara- 
tively vague  and  cold.  Before  he  can  feel  as  we  feel, 
he  must  be  enabled  to  behold  and  see.  That  is  to 
say,  he  must  be  enabled  to  come  into  sensuous  con- 
tact with,  to  experience,  the  nocturnal  glory  of  the 
sky.  Then,  and  then  only,  will  he  feel  that  he  knows. 
Not  till  then  will  his  state  of  mind  be  one  of  con- 
viction and  assurance.  Consequently,  the  only  way 
of  winning  certitude  of  the  life  to  come  would  appear 
to  be  by  contact  with  it  through  our  five  senses. 
The  idea  seems  preposterous.  How  can  we  see, 
touch,  hear,  the  invisible,  intangible,  inaudible? 
Yet  apart  from  sight,  touch,  hearing,  how  is  direct 
contact  to  be  achieved? 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  127 

Certitude  through  Spiritism. 

Modern  "spiritualism"  claims  to  have  solved  the 
difficulty.  The  notion  that  the  invisible  world  is 
beyond  the  reach  of  sense  is  false,  it  declares.  We 
may  actually  see  the  inhabitants  of  another  world, 
hear  the  rustle  of  their  spirit  garments,  feel  the  touch 
of  their  spirit  hands,  and  through  the  agency  of  a 
"medium"  or  "sensitive"  receive  messages  from  the 
departed  as  easily  as  through  the  telephone,  we 
receive  a  message  from  the  friend  in  the  next  street. 

Notwithstanding  these  great  claims,  many  thought- 
ful people  are  repelled  by  the  vulgarity  and  stupidity 
which  marks  so  much  of  what  goes  on  at  "seances." 
Moreover,  the  subject  reeks  of  chicanery.  The  sur- 
rounding circumstances  create  in  the  mind  of  an 
impartial  visitor  a  presumption  of  fraud.  The 
darkened  room,  the  mysterious  cabinet,  the  wierd 
music,  suggest  the  conjurer's  art.  Again  and  again 
these  suspicions  have  proved  to  be  well  founded. 
Busy  hands  have  been  detected  where  no  hands  should 
be.  The  ghostly  visitors  from  another  sphere  have 
been  revealed  when  the  lights  were  turned  on,  as 
beings  of  solid  flesh  and  bone.  /'Properties"  peculiar 
to  the  green  room,  have  been  discovered  within 
the  secret  precincts  where  the  medium  was  supposed 
to  sit  unconscious  and  entranced.  We  have  but 
to  recall  the  record  of  those  accomplished  tricksters, 
the  Davenport  brothers,  Slade  and  Foster,  or  to 
read  the  narrative  of  investigations  by  Miinsterberg, 
and  Jastrow,  to  feel  convinced  that  modern  spiritism 
is  tainted  with  deception. 

Nevertheless  it  is  not  all  deception.  No  movement 
which  has  influenced  so  many  human  minds  can  be 
wholly  fraudulent.  There  is  a  basis  and  residuum  of 


128  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

fact.  Strange  forces  are  undoubtedly  brought  into 
play.  Powers  more  than  normal  are  exercised.  This 
residuum  of  fact,  these  abnormal  powers,  can  be 
explained,  however,  so  competent  observers  declare, 
on  psychological  and  physiological  grounds,  without 
calling  in  the  aid  of  spirits  from  the  vasty  deep,  or 
from  anywhere  else. 

We  are  assured  that  all  phenomena  of  spiritism 
not  due  to  trickery  may  be  accounted  for,  if  they 
are  physical  manifestations,  as  the  work  of  muscular 
automatism,  the  extraordinary  condition  in  which  the 
limbs  perform  sometimes  quite  complex  acts,  (writing, 
drawing,  etc.),  independently  of  the  will  or  even  of 
the  consciousness. 

If  the  phenomena  be  mental,  (visions,  clairvoyance, 
trance  utterances,  etc.),  exhibiting  an  apparent 
knowledge  beyond  the  normal,  they  must  be  regarded 
as  the  subconscious  reproductions  of  latent  memories, 
brought  about  by  a  more  or  less  profound  hypnosis, 
or  as  due  to  thought  transference.  Such,  at  least,  is 
the  conclusion  arrived  at  by  Podmore,  one  of  the 
most  careful  of  observers. 

In  fairness  to  mediums  it  should  be  said  that  even 
where  deception  exists,  there  is  reason  to  think  it  is 
not  always  conscious.  It  seems  probable  that  fraudu- 
lent acts  may  be  due  sometimes  to  automatism, 
apart  from  the  consciousness  of  the  medium.  This 
makes  the  practise  of  mediumship  none  the  less  mis- 
leading to  those  who  seek  for  light  through  its  agency. 

Taking  into  consideration  how  great  is  the  tempta- 
tion to  fraud,  and  how  manifold  are  the  opportunities 
for  error,  spiritism  can  scarcely  be  regarded  as  a  safe 
or  satisfactory  way  of  establishing  certainty  with 
regard  to  a  life  beyond  the  grave. 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL           129 

Certitude  through  psychical  research. 

Are  the  conclusions  of  Podmore  and  others  correct? 
Is  the  admitted  residuum  of  abnormal  fact  in  spiritism 
completely  accounted  for  by  psychological  and 
physiological  causes? 

The  question  can  be  answered  only  by  further 
investigation.  To  carry  out  this  investigation  on 
unimpeachable  and  scientific  lines,  is  the  aim  of 
psychical  research,  which  has  been  described  as  "the 
patient  attempt  to  unravel  from  confused  phenomena, 
some  trace  of  the  supernal  world." 

Founded  about  1850,  the  "Society  For  Psychical 
Research,"  has  carried  on  its  labors  with  the  one 
purpose  of  working  by  scientific  methods  for  scientific 
ends.  Slowly  yet  steadily  the  enterprise  has  pro- 
ceeded. Gradually,  and  in  spite  of  innumerable 
difficulties,  a  mass  of  valuable  material  has  been 
accumulated.  Though  results  seem  small,  they  are 
solid,  and  promise  much  for  the  future.  "Beyond 
us  still  is  mystery,  but  it  is  mystery  lit  and  mellowed 
with  an  infinite  hope." 

Sir  Oliver  Lodge  thus  summarises  the  present  situa- 
tion. "The  boundary  between  the  two  states,  the 
known  and  the  unknown  is  still  substantial,  but  it  is 
wearing  thin  in  places,  and  like  excavators  engaged 
in  boring  a  tunnel  from  opposite  ends,  amid  the  roar 
of  water  and  other  noises  we  are  beginning  to  hear 
now  and  again  the  strokes  of  the  pickaxes  of  our 
comrades  on  the  other  side." 

While  the  work  of  the  Society  for  Psychical  Re- 
search is  of  the  highest  importance,  and  should  receive 
our  financial  aid,  and  our  cordial  and  respectful 
sympathy,  for  many  of  us  it  will  prove  to  be  "no 


130  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

thoroughfare,"  so  far  as  the  attainment  of  certitude 
with  regard  to  the  future  life  is  concerned. 

The  drawback  is,  that  it  must  ever  be  "caviare  to 
the  general."  It  is  a  recondite  theme,  illusive,  diffi- 
cult, requiring  for  its  successful  prosecution,  not  only 
the  utmost  caution,  the  most  wide  awake  vigilance, 
but  careful  preparation  and  technical  training. 

The  results  achieved  in  this  direction,  must  be  for 
most  of  us,  a  matter  of  report.  Intensely  interesting, 
perhaps  sufficiently  convincing,  but  still  for  most  of 
us,  destined  to  remain  secondary  knowledge,  lacking 
the  reality  which  only  experience  can  give. 

Certitude  through  the  mystical  mood. 

Admitting  that  under  ordinary  circumstances  the 
senses  are  the  sole  media  through  which  we  can  achieve 
contact,  and  so  gain  experience,  and  that  under 
ordinary  circumstances  they  respond  only  to  physical 
stimuli,  is  it  not  imaginable  that  there  may  be  extra- 
ordinary circumstances,  in  which  the  nerves  are 
attuned  to  a  finer  sensitiveness,  so  delicate  as  to  thrill 
in  temporary  response  to  other  than  physical  stimuli? 

In  such  abnormal  states,  is  it  not  possible  that 
without  the  aid  of  medium  or  seer,  abnormal  experi- 
ences may  be  obtained  corresponding  with  truth,  in 
spite  of  their  abnormality? 

In  all  ages,  individuals  have  claimed  to  have  had 
periods  of  exceptional  sensitiveness,  peculiarly  exalted 
and  ecstatic  moods,  "mystical  states  of  mind,"  in 
which  abnormal  sensibilities  are  aroused  and  the 
conviction  becomes  irresistible  that  we  are  in  actual 
touch  with  a  life  larger  than  our  own.  A  few  modern 
instances  may  be  quoted. 

In  his  "journal,"  Emerson  writes: 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  131 

"A  certain  wandering  light  comes  to  me  which  I 
instantly  perceive  to  be  the  cause  of  causes. 

"It  transcends  all  proving.  It  is  itself  the  ground  of 
being,  and  I  see  that  it  is  not  one  and  I  another,  but 
this  is  the  life  of  my  life. 

"That  is  one  fact,  then,  that  in  certain  moods  I  have 
known  that  I  existed  directly  from  God,  and  am  as  it 
were  his  organ,  and  in  my  ultimate  consciousness  am 
He." 

["Journal"     1837  pp.  248-9.] 

In  the  letters  of  James  Russell  Lowell,  vol.  1.  p.  75, 
occurs  the  following: 

"I  had  a  revelation  last  Friday  evening.  I  was  at 
Mary's,  and  happening  to  say  something  of  the 
presence  of  spirits,  (of  whom  I  said  I  was  often  dimly 
aware),  Mr.  Putnam  entered  into  an  argument  with 
me  on  spiritual  matters.  As  I  was  speaking  the  whole 
system  rose  up  before  me  like  a  vague  destiny  looming 
from  the  abyss. 

"I  never  before  so  clearly  felt  the  spirit  of  God  in  me 
and  around  me.  The  whole  room  seemed  to  be  full 
of  God.  The  air  seemed  to  waver  to  and  fro  with 
the  presence  of  something,  I  knew  not  what.  I  spoke 
with  the  clearness  and  calmness  of  a  prophet. 

"I  cannot  tell  you  what  this  revelation  was.  I  have 
not  studied  it  enough.  But  I  shall  perfect  it  one  day, 
and  then  you  shall  hear  it,  and  acknowledge  its 
grandeur." 

John  Sterling  writes  in  a  similar  vein : 

"I  rode  through  some  of  the  pleasant  lanes  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  was  delighted  to  see  the  primroses 
under  every  hedge.  The  whole  aspect  of  the  world 
is  full  of  quiet  harmony,  that  influences  even  one's 


132  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

bodily  frame,  and  seems  to  make  one's  limbs  aware 
of  something  living,  good,  and  immortal,  in  all  around 
us." 

[Carlyle's  "Stirling."     p.  215.] 

In  a  letter  dated  from  Farringford,  May  7,  1874, 
quoted  in  the  London  "Spectator"  Feb.  2,  1889, 
Tennyson  wrote: 

"  A  kind  of  waking  trance,  (this  for  lack  of  a  better 
name)  I  have  frequently  had,  quite  up  from  boyhood, 
when  I  have  been  all  alone.  This  has  often  come 
upon  me  through  repeating  my  own  name  to  myself 
silently,  till  all  at  once,  as  it  were,  out  of  the  intensity 
of  consciousness  of  individuality,  the  individuality 
itself,  seemed  to  dissolve  and  fade  away  into  bound- 
less being,  and  this  not  a  confused  state,  but  the  clear- 
est of  the  clearest,  the  surest  of  the  surest,  utterly 
beyond  words,  where  death  was  an  almost  laughable 
impossibility,  the  loss  of  personality  (if  so  it  were) 
seeming  no  extinction,  but  the  only  true  life.  I  am 
ashamed  of  my  feeble  description.  Have  I  not  said 
the  state  is  utterly  beyond  words." 

A  like  state  of  mind  is  recorded  by  A.  C.  Benson: 

"I  walked  today  in  sheltered  wooded  valleys, 
and  at  one  point  in  a  very  sheltered  and  secluded  lane, 
leaned  long  upon  a  gate  that  led  into  a  little  forest 
clearing,  to  watch  the  busy  and  intent  life  of  the 
wood.  There  were  the  trees  extending  their  fresh 
leaves  to  the  rain,  the  birds  slipped  from  tree  to  tree, 
a  mouse  frisked  about  the  grassy  road,  a  hundred 
flowers  raised  their  bright  heads. 

"And  then  I  felt  for  awhile  like  a  tiny  spray  of  sea- 
weed floating  on  an  infinite  sea,  with  the  brightness 
of  the  morning  overhead.  I  felt  that  I  was  indeed 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  133 

set  where  I  found  myself  to  be  and  that  if  now  my 
little  heart  and  brain  are  too  small  to  hold  the  truth, 
yet  I  thanked  God  for  making  even  the  conception 
of  the  mystery,  the  width,  the  depth,  possible  to  me, 
and  I  prayed  to  him  to  give  to  me  as  much  of  the 
truth  as  I  could  bear. 

"And  I  do  not  doubt  that  he  gave  me  that,  for  I  felt 
for  an  instant  that  whatever  befall  me,  I  was  indeed 
a  part  of  himself,  not  a  thing  outside  and  separate, 
not  even  his  son  and  his  child,  but  himself." 

["  The  Thread  of  Gold."     pp.  223-4.} 

"And  yet  as  angels  in  some  brighter  dreams 

Call  to  the  soul  when  man  doth  sleep, 
So  some  strange  thoughts  transcend  our  wonted  themes, 
And  into  glory  peep." 

wrote  Vaughan,  and  Wordsworth  describes  a  cor- 
responding mental  condition  in  the  famous  lines 
beginning, 

"I  have  felt 

A  presence  which  disturbs  me  with  the  joy 
Of  elevated  thoughts,  a  sense  sublime 
Of  something  far  more  deeply  interfused, 
Whose  dwelling  is  the  light  of  setting  suns, 
And  the  round  ocean  and  the  living  air, 
And  the  blue  sky  and  in  the  mind  of  man, 
A  motion  and  a  spirit  that  impels 
All  thinking  things  all  objects  of  all  thought 
And  rolls  through  all  things." 

For  further  instances  see  "Varieties  of  Religious 
Experience"  pp.  66-72,  395,  396,  398,  221,  William 
James. 

It  appears,  then,  that  human  beings  do  on  occasion, 
believe  themselves  to  pass  into  states  of  conscious- 


134 

ness  during  which  they  perceive  in  an  experiential 
way,  the  reality  of  an  unseen  and  superhuman  world. 

The  possibilities  of  supra  normal  perception  seem 
now  to  be  enlarged  by  the  disclosure  that  we  possess 
sensibilities  other  than  those  of  ordinary  sight, 
sound,  touch,  taste,  smell,  and  that  consequently 
we  may  not  be  so  completely  dependent  on  our 
five  senses  as  has  been  supposed. 

"I  cannot  but  think,"  says  James  ["Varieties" 
p.  233],  "that  the  most  important  step  forward  that 
has  occurred  in  psychology  since  I  have  been  a 
student  of  the  science,  is  the  discovery  first  made 
in  1886,  that  in  certain  subjects  at  least,  there  is 
not  only  the  consciousness  of  the  ordinary  field, 
with  its  usual  centre  and  margin,  but  an  addition 
thereto,  in  the  shape  of  a  set  of  memories,  thoughts 
and  feelings,  which  are  extramarginal  and  outside 
of  the  ordinary  consciousness  altogether,  yet  must 
be  classed  as  conscious  facts  of  some  sort,  able  to 
reveal  their  presence  by  unmistakable  signs.  The 
human  material  on  which  the  demonstration  has 
been  made  has  so  far  been  rather  limited  and  in 
part,  at  least,  eccentric,  consisting  of  unusually  sug- 
gestible hypnotic  subjects,  and  of  hysteric  patients. 
Yet  the  elementary  mechanisms  of  life  are  pre- 
sumably so  uniform,  that  what  is  shown  to  be  true 
in  a  marked  degree  of  some  persons,  is  probably 
true  in  some  degree  of  all,  and  may  in  a  few  be  true 
in  an  extraordinarily  high  degree.  There  is  reason 
to  believe  that  under  special  conditions,  uprushes 
of  energies  originating  in  this  extra  marginal  or 
subliminal  mental  region  take  place." 

If  our  normal  senses  be  capable  on  occasion,  of 
more  than  normal  sensitiveness,  and  if  also,  there 
be  in  us  extra  marginal  faculties  which,  when  brought 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  135 

into  play  greatly  enlarge  our  perceptive  capacities, 
and  if  nothing  more  be  needed  to  raise  normal  senses 
above  their  normal  sensitiveness,  and  to  bring  the 
extra  marginal  faculties  into  play,  than  a  suit- 
able mental  state,  it  is  conceivable  that  given  such 
a  mental  state,  we  may,  either  through  the  action 
of  our  more  than  normally  sensitive  ordinary  senses, 
or  through  the  transmarginal  faculties,  or  through 
the  cooperation  of  both,  at  once  become  aware  of 
realities  normally  hidden  from  our  view.  Can  a 
mental  state  of  this  kind  be  induced? 

In  India  training  in  mystical  insight  has  been  known 
from  time  immemorial  under  the  name  of  "Yoga." 
"Yoga  signifies  the  experiential  union  of  the  human 
with  the  divine.  It  is  based  on  persevering  exercise, 
and  the  diet,  posture,  breathing,  intellectual  con- 
centration, and  moral  discipline,  vary  slightly  in  the 
different  systems.  The  disciple  who  has  by  these 
means  overcome  the  obscurations  of  his  lower  nature 
sufficiently,  enters  into  a  condition  of  supersensi- 
tiveness,  and  is  face  to  face  with  facts  which  neither 
reason  nor  instinct  can  ever  perceive.  Then  we 
know  ourselves  for  what  we  really  are,  free  and 
immortal."  Christendom  and  Islam  as  well  as 
India  have  produced  schools  of  mystics  who  have 
claimed  that  through  certain  courses  of  discipline 
a  state  of  trance  or  ecstasy  may  be  induced,  during 
which  the  world  beyond  is  revealed  to  the  inward 
sense. 

Coming  nearer  home,  hypnosis  suggests  itself 
as  possibly  a  means  to  the  desired  end. 

"There  can  be  little  doubt,"  says  F.  W.  H.  Myers, 
"that  under  hypnotic  conditions  a  state  of  sensory 
delicacy  may  be  induced,  which  overpasses  the 
ordinary  level.  Not  only  are  the  senses  capable 


136  SOURCES  OF  FATIH  AND  HOPE 

through  hypnosis  of  being  raised  to  an  abnormal 
degree  of  sensitiveness,  but  it  would  seem  that 
sense  capacities  of  an  altogether  new  kind  are  some- 
times developed,  decidedly  different  from  those 
with  which  we  are  familiar." 

If  our  capabilities  can  be,  under  hypnotic  conditions, 
so  increased  in  power  as  to  enable  them  to  perceive 
hidden  marks  and  objects,  to  warn  us  of  impending 
dangers,  etc.,  [see  Myers  "Human  Personality"  p. 
270,]  why  should  not  this  increase  of  power  enable 
them  to  discern  also,  the  reality  of  an  unseen  world, 
lying  beyond  the  sphere  of  our  normal  faculties, 
assuming  that  such  a  world  exists? 

See  works  on  Hypnotism,  also  the  literature  of 
Theosophy,  and  the  "Proceedings,"  of  the  Society 
for  Psychical  Research. 

Certain  modern  writers  affirm  that  the  difficult, 
doubtful,  and  perhaps  dangerous  methods  of  hypno- 
tism, are  not  in  the  least  necessary,  the  mystical 
mood  of  supranormal  sensitiveness  may  be  induced 
by  comparatively  simple  means.  See,  "Ideal  Sug- 
gestion," by  Henry  Wood.  "The  Power  of  Silence," 
by  H.  W.  Dresser.  "In  Tune  with  the  Infinite," 
by  Trine. 

There  are  those  for  whom  the  gateways  of  the 
beyond  are  opened  by  music. 

Music  stimulates  the  emotional  side  of  human 
nature  and  sets  its  sensibilities  and  sympathies 
aglow.  "Music,"  writes  Hegel,  "Builds  no  permanent 
fabric  in  space.  It  has  no  form.  It  is  a  voice  out 
of  the  unseen.  Itself  invisible,  with  neither  shape  nor 
tangibility,  music  makes  us  susceptible  to  the  invis- 
ible. It  stirs  within  us,  as  nothing  else  can,  a  con- 
sciousness of  the  reality  of  the  world  unseen." 

As  Abt  Vogler  declares  in  Browning's  poem, 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  137 

"Sorrow  is  hard  to  bear,  and  doubt  is  slow  to  clear, 

Each  sufferer  says  his  say,  his  scheme  of  the  weal  and 

woe, 

But  God  has  a  few  of  us  whom  he  whispers  in  the  ear, 
The  rest  may  reason  and  welcome,  'tis  we  musicians 
know." 

It  has  been  held  by  some,  by  the  Quakers  among 
others,  that  to  bring  us  into  experiential  relations 
with  the  unseen,  little  more  is  needed  than  quietness. 

The  landscape  is  there,  actinic  forces  from  hill 
and  tree  and  stream  are  playing  upon  the  lens 
and  sensitive  plate,  but  there  will  be  no  picture 
unless  the  camera  is  held  motionless.  Forces  from 
the  unseen  play  upon  the  sensitive  plate  of  the 
mind,  but  unless  there  is  quietness,  there  will  be  no 
picture. 

"Be  still,  and  know  that  I  am  God,"  says  the 
old  writer.  Neither  in  the  tempest,  nor  in  the  earth- 
quake, nor  in  the  fire,  was  the  prophet  able  to  dis- 
cern the  presence  of  the  Lord.  The  still  small  voice 
was  heard  afterwards  in  the  quietness. 

Wordsworth  insists  that  it  is  only  when  our 
bodily  powers  are  at  rest  that  we  are  fully  alive. 
He  speaks  of  the  blessed  mood  when, 

"Even  the  motions  of  the  human  blood 
Almost  suspended,  we  are  laid  asleep 
In  body,  and  become  a  living  soul." 

It  is,  he  tells  us,  not  by  a  restlessly  inquisitive  eye, 
but  by  an  eye  made  quiet  "by  the  power  of  harmony 
and  the  deep  power  of  joy,"  that  we  see  into  the 
life  of  things.  So  too,  he  defends  himself  for  sitting 
hour  after  hour  on  an  old  gray  stone  in  apparent 
vacancy. 


138  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

"Nor  less  I  deem  that  there  are  powers 

Which  of  themselves  our  minds  impress, 
That  we  can  feed  this  mind  of  ours, 
By  a  wise  passiveness." 

Wordsworth's  vision  is,  in  his  own  belief,  never 
thoroughly  lucid  until  he  is  rapt  by  it  far  away  from 
the  ordinary  alertness  which  is  commonly  called 
quickness  of  sense,  and  transported  into  a  region  in 
which  he  is  alone  with  his  thoughts,  and  all  but 
unaware  of  the  momentary  changes  going  on  around 
him. 

Even  the  mere  man  of  the  world  is  conscious  that 
when  he  is  "laid  asleep  in  body"  he  often  becomes  a 
much  more  "living  soul"  for  those  things  which  he 
is  most  desirous  to  discern  truly.  As  his  senses  sink 
to  rest,  he  recalls  errors  of  which  he  was  unconscious 
when  he  committed  them,  or  expressions  on  the 
countenances  of  his  friends  or  rivals,  which  till  then, 
he  completely  ignored.  And  if  this  be  so  in  relation 
to  things  essentially  of  this  world,  it  is  certainly  much 
more  so  as  to  those  deeper  springs  of  motive  and 
character  which  it  takes  a  still  deeper  peace  of  spirit 
to  perceive.  We  need  a  "wise  passiveness"  to  inter- 
pret truly  what  we  see." 

["Spectator,"  Aug.  6,  1887.} 

While  most  of  us,  perhaps,  are  too  incurably  rest- 
less to  attain  by  any  such  means  the  mystical  mood 
of  insight,  there  is  evidence  enough  to  show  that 
certain  natures  find  no  insuperable  difficulties  in  their 
way.  They  are  able  with  comparative  ease  to  bring 
their  minds  to  that  tranquil  condition,  of  which  the 
poet  speaks,  a  mental  state  in  which  celestial  in- 
fluences imprint  themselves  upon  the  soul,  revealing 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  139 

with  the  convincing  force  of  experience,  the  reality  of 
the  unseen. 

The  churches  have  always  taught  that  the  mystical 
mood  may  be  induced,  and  access  to  the  unseen 
obtained,  through  the  instrumentality  of  prayer. 
Certitude  is  communicated  to  those  who,  under 
proper  conditions,  pray  for  it. 

Many  have  an  ingrained  prejudice  against  the 
notion  of  prayer.  To  seek  information,  or  to  seek 
anything,  through  this  means  seems  like  a  return  to 
the  superstitions  of  the  dark  ages.  We  have  been, 
perhaps,  educated  in  an  atmosphere  alien  to  devotion, 
at  least  in  the  emotional  sense.  The  Almighty,  we 
have  been  accustomed  to  think,  attends  to  his  busi- 
ness and  expects  us  to  attend  to  ours.  To  a  deputa- 
tion which  came  requesting  that  he  would  apoint  a 
day  of  fasting  and  prayer  on  account  of  the  cholera, 
Palmerston  replied,  "Pray  with  a  broom  in  your 
hand.  Go  home  and  clean  up." 

By  fulfilling  our  part  in  life,  by  doing  our  duty, 
overcoming  difficulties,  conquering,  achieving,  we  can 
best  approach  the  Lord.  There  is  in  fact  no  other 
way  of  approaching  him.  To  labor  is  to  pray.  Such, 
probably,  is  the  confident  conviction  of  a  majority 
of  educated  people. 

Nevertheless,  in  all  ages  there  have  been  men  and 
women  who  have  thought  otherwise,  who  have  felt 
that  work  is  not  the  only  way  of  communicating  with 
the  higher  powers,  who  have  held  that  we  can  pray 
with  the  mind  as  well  as  with  the  body,  and  that  the 
former  is  often  the  more  direct,  and  more  immediately 
effective  method. 

Said  a  scorner  of  religion  to  the  fugitive  slave, 
"Your  feet,  I  guess,  helped  you  more  than  your 


140  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

knees."    "But  for  the  knees  first,"  replied  the  black, 
"I  should  have  had  no  courage  for  the  feet." 

The  doctrine  of  response  to  prayer. 

"Prayer,"  says  F.  W.  H.  Myers,  "is  a  process  of 
telepathic  communication  between  our  minds  and 
minds  above  our  own,  which  are  supposed  not  only 
to  understand  our  wish  or  aspiration,  but  to  impress 
or  influence  us  in  return." 

Grounding  their  conviction  on  personal  experience, 
saints  have  believed  that  sincere  prayer  is  in  all  cases 
effectual,  that  no  call  from  earth  to  heaven,  whether 
wise  or  foolish,  goes  without  an  answer,  so  long  as 
the  call  is  uttered  in  sincerity  and  truth.  Everyone 
that  asketh  receiveth.  It  is  a  law,  say  the  saints, 
that  prayer  is  answered.  Not  a  caprice,  but  a  divine 
method,  sure  and  certain  as  any  law  of  nature.  We 
can  no  more  pray  without  result  than  we  can  open  our 
shutters  without  letting  in  light,  or  raise  the  window 
without  letting  in  air. 

The  supplications  of  mankind  ascend  to  no  unten- 
anted  abyss,  but  to  the  living  source  of  affection  and 
of  sympathy.  It  is  unthinkable,  therefore,  that 
they  should  be  ignored. 

"Between  the  stirrup  and  the  ground, 
He  mercy  asked  and  mercy  found." 

Even  the  briefest  of  our  appeals  brings  a  beneficent 
rejoinder. 

Yet  how  many  instances  we  recall  when  there 
seemed  to  be  no  rejoinder.  When  the  passionate 
human  cry  went  up  to  heaven,  and  the  heavens  were 
as  brass. 

May  it  not  be  that  in  such  instances  the  apparent 
absence  of  response  is  due  to  the  unexpected  shape 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  141 

in  which  the  response  comes?    That  very  frequently 
it  must  come  in  unexpected  shape,  is  surely  inevitable. 

"  We,  ignorant  of  ourselves, 

Beg  often  our  own  harm,  which  the  wise  powers 
Deny  us  for  our  good,  so  find  we  profit 
By  losing  of  our  prayers." 

We  pray  for  what  we  think  would  benefit  us. 
Fortunately,  the  powers  above  answer,  with  a  wisdom 
greater  than  our  own. 

There  are  two  ways  of  curing  a  diseased  member. 
The  affected  part  may  be  removed  by  a  surgical 
operation,  or  the  general  health  of  the  patient  may 
be  so  improved,  the  tone  and  vigor  of  the  whole 
constitution  so  increased,  that  the  disease  is  overcome, 
and  the  difficulty  ceases  to  be  annoying.  Obviously, 
a  similar  choice  of  methods  is  possible  with  regard 
to  every  one  of  the  troubles  and  misfortunes  of 
existence.  Either  the  outward  circumstances  may 
be  changed,  and  the  obstacles  removed  from  our 
path,  or  we  ourselves  may  be  changed  to  such  an 
extent  that  what  were  obstacles  before  now  cease 
to  be  so. 

Instead  of  modifying  external  conditions,  our  own 
condition  may  be  modified. 

By  the  enlightening  of  our  ignorance,  and  by  the 
transforming  of  our  weakness  into  strength,  we  can 
be  delivered  from  all  we  need  delivering  from,  just 
as  fully,  as  though  actual  mountains  were  removed, 
or  the  order  of  nature  itself  reversed. 

The  drowning  sailor  clinging  to  the  tottering 
mast,  shrieks  to  heaven  to  save  him,  if  not  for  his 
own  sake,  then,  for  the  sake  of  the  little  helpless 
ones  at  home.  When  morning  dawns,  his  corpse 
lies  stark  and  battered  upon  the  rocks. 


142  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

Appalling  as  such  an  event  appears  it  does  not 
imply,  necessarily,  that  the  prayer  of  the  forlorn 
mariner  went  unheard.  It  was  possible  for  an  answer 
to  be  given  to  that  cry,  instant,  complete,  and  satis- 
fying, while  still  permitting  the  storm  to  run  its  course. 
If,  in  response  to  his  appeal,  the  sailor's  heart  were 
suddenly  suffused  with  peace,  so  that  all  fear  vanished, 
while  into  the  recesses  of  his  mind  a  light  penetrated, 
revealing  beyond,  a  bliss  unspeakable,  and  if,  at  the 
same  moment,  the  divine  solicitude  watching  over 
his  fatherless  home  were  made  clear  and  convincing 
to  him,  so  that  all  desire  for  this  life,  and  all  anxiety 
for  his  beloved  ones,  were  taken  away,  would  not 
death  in  the  storm  cease  to  appear  as  a  calamity? 
Would  not  the  removal  of  every  misgiving  be  an 
answer  to  his  prayer? 

The  cripple  pours  forth  a  supplication  for  deliver- 
ance from  his  bed  of  pain,  and  if  in  response  to  his 
supplication  a  strength  be  imparted,  making  en- 
durance light,  and  quickening  the  soul  with  a  sensi- 
bility that  feels,  even  among  the  shadows  of  the 
sick  room,  something  of  the  life  and  glory  of  the 
Celestial  City,  even  though  the  mattress  prison 
remain  a  prison,  will  not  an  answer  have  been  vouch- 
safed, a  change  wrought,  as  effective  as  though  the 
crippled  limbs  had  been  made  straight?  May  not 
such  infusion  of  additional  and  more  potent  mental 
qualities  so  transform  the  situation  as  to  take 
away  all  in  it  that  before  was  evil?  As  real  and 
true  a  deliverance  may  thus  be  effected  as  though 
the  evil  itself  had  been  removed.  In  fact,  the  evil 
has  been  removed,  for  those  mental  disabilities 
have  been  done  away  with,  which  alone  made  the 
conditions  evil. 

Moreover,  this  method  of  answering  prayer  is  of 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  143 

benefit  to  us  in  a  way  that  no  other  method  could 
be.  Merely  to  strike  obstacles  from  our  path  would 
relieve  us  from  the  necessity  of  enduring  present 
pain,  or  of  making  immediate  effort,  but  it  would 
be  likely  to  leave  us  enervated.  On  the  other  hand, 
by  instilling  into  us  an  added  measure  of  strength, 
insight,  intelligence,  affection,  fortitude,  not  only  are 
we  helped  effectively  over  present  trouble,  but  our 
personality  is  invigorated.  In  this  way  the  whole 
aspect  of  even  the  most  destitute  existence  may  be 
transfigured. 

Seeing  that  all  prayers  are  answered,  the  only 
element  of  uncertainly  is  the  form  the  answer  will 
assume.  In  respect  to  a  number  of  things,  even 
this  uncertainty  is  absent.  Some  things  there  are 
which  we  may  look  infallibly  to  receive.  Patience, 
courage,  hope,  enlightenment,  for  instance,  these 
are  always  granted.  Such,  in  brief,  is  the  doctrine 
of  response  to  prayer. 

Since  all  prayers  are  answered,  and  since  there  are 
some  things,  as  patience,  courage,  hope,  enlighten- 
ment, which,  when  we  pray  for  them,  are  invariably 
given,  is  it  not  likely  that  among  these  things  is 
included  assurance  with  regard  to  our  future  beyond 
the  grave?  Assurance  of  the  future  is  of  the  same 
nature  as  patience,  courage,  hope,  enlightenment, 
in  that  it  is  a  desirable  condition  of  mind  and  heart, 
and  being  of  the  same  nature  as  these  always  granted 
things,  we  may  reasonably  believe,  it  also  will  be 
granted.  Reference  to  the  records  of  prayer  exper- 
ience show  that  this  has  been  the  case. 

Why,  if  assurance  with  regard  to  death  be  for 
our  benefit,  do  the  higher  powers  wait  to  impart  the 
benefit  until  we  pray  for  it?  Seed  will  not  grow  in 
soil  that  is  uncongenial,  or  unprepared.  Endowed 


144  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

as  we  are  with  a  measure  of  independence,  some 
cooperation  on  our  part,  probably,  is  essential.  Must 
we  not  at  least  desire  knowledge,  and  be  in  a  condition 
to  receive  it,  before  it  can  be  imparted,  or  do  us  any 
good?  The  light  from  stars  so  distant  as  to  be 
invisible  alike  to  the  naked  eye  and  to  the  strongest 
telescope,  has,  for  centuries  unknown  to  us,  bathed 
the  earth.  Not  until  our  astronomers  exposed  to 
those  astral  forces  the  surface  of  a  sufficiently  sensi- 
tive photographic  plate,  were  messages  from  the 
invisible  worlds-  received.  As  the  increased  sensi- 
tiveness of  the  photographic  surface  made  it  com- 
petent to  receive  and  register  hitherto  imperceptible 
influences,  so,  many  believe,  will  the  increased 
sensitiveness  produced  by  prayer,  make  our  minds 
competent  to  receive  and  register  hitherto  imper- 
ceptible influences. 

Gradually,  as  the  practise  of  prayer  is  pursued 
we  become  aware  of  new  and  non-sensuous  impres- 
sions, which  have  stolen  into  the  mind  by  way 
neither  of  eye  nor  ear,  but  through  some  hidden 
gateway.  Little  by  little  these  impressions  flood  our 
souls,  rising  into  every  inlet,  every  ramification, 
every  crevice,  of  the  brain.  They  do  not  represent 
definite  objects.  We  see  no  distinct  images.  Shapes, 
and  forms,  and  colors,  there  are  none.  Primarily, 
they  are  impressions  of  proximity  to  something.  At 
first  indistinct,  but,  as  a  consequence  of  prayer 
continued,  gathering  substance,  until  there  accumu- 
lates in  the  mind  a  sense  of  certainty  that  we  are 
directly  associated  with  a  power  of  life  greater  than 
our  own. 

As  two  musical  notes  brought  into  harmony, 
mingle  into  one  combined  note,  so  our  life,  brought 
into  harmony  with  the  divine  life,  is  combined  with 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  145 

the  divine.  The  two  pass  into  one  another,  and 
we  thus  experience  the  life  that  is  beyond  death. 
Our  real  relation  with  the  unseen  grows  plain,  we 
have  a  sensation  about  it  of  the  nature  of  "an  im- 
mediate perception,  as  if  one  touched  something 
with  one's  hands." 

In  some  such  way  as  this  the  telepathy  of  prayer 
brings  us  by  imperceptible  degrees,  to  a  consciousness 
of  immortality.  We  find  ourselves  possessed  of  a 
happy  sense  of  assurance,  that, 

"To  die 

Is  to  begin  to  live.     It  is  to  end 
An  old  stale  weary  work,  and  to  commence 
A  newer  and  a  better." 

A  mystical  mood  of  mind  and  soul,  in  which,  "death 
becomes  an  almost  laughable  impossibility." 

To  this  mystical  mood  of  insight  there  remains 
still  another  means  of  access.  While  it  may  be  won 
through  prayer,  it  may  be  won  also  through  Associa- 
tion. 

Granting  that  our  five  senses  are  the  sole  channels 
of  communication  with  the  world  of  material  things, 
with  the  unseen  world  they  are  not  necessarily  the 
sole  channels  of  communication. 

In  another  chapter  we  learned  that  there  is  no  wall 
of  partition  between  seen  and  unseen.  At  every 
instant  soul  is  in  touch  with  Oversoul,  human  with 
superhuman,  not  through  the  ordinary  faculties  of 
sense,  nor  through  the  extra  marginal  faculties,  but 
through  that  additional,  yet  still  normal  sense,  which 
exists  at  the  heart  and  core  of  our  being,  the  sense, 
namely,  of  moral  obligation,  or  the  feeling  about  right. 

We  saw  that  this  extraordinary  element  in  our 
nature  is  explicable  in  but  one  way.  It  can  be  ac- 


146  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

counted  for  only  as  the  manifestation  in  our  con- 
sciousness of  a  power  superior  to  our  consciousness, 
a  power  having  its  source  and  origin  in  a  region  above 
our  consciousness. 

At  this  point,  then,  man  comes  directly  in  touch, 
not  through  his  five  senses,  nor  yet  through  his  sub- 
liminal sensibilities,  but  through  his  feeling  about 
right,  with  something  more  than  man,  with  some- 
thing superhuman,  and  the  attitude  we  assume 
toward  this  superhuman  influence  is  bound  to  have 
an  important  effect  upon  our  lives. 

Suppose  we  choose  to  shut  our  hearts  against  the 
sense  of  right,  and  to  live  as  though  we  had  none. 
The  result  is,  that  without  disappearing  altogether, 
it  grows  dim,  shrinks  as  it  were,  into  the  background. 
On  the  other  hand,  if  we  answer  the  appeal  made  by 
this  feeling,  and  take  it  as  our  guiding  motive,  it 
comes  to  occupy  a  leading  place  in  our  sphere  of 
being,  and  our  existence  is  profoundly  modified. 

If  association  with  nature  instills  into  the  heart 
of  man,  as  Wordsworth  affirmed,  an  awareness  of  her 
hidden  significances,  and  awakes  a  "sense  sublime 
of  something  far  more  deeply  interfused,"  is  it  less 
reasonable  that  association  with  the  feeling  about 
right,  the  manifestation  of  the  superhuman  in  the 
midst  of  our  humanity,  should  prove  also  a  path  to 
insight,  and  lead  to  the  growth  in  us  of  a  new  organ 
of  vision,  a  new  awareness  of  the  presence  of  that 
superhuman  world,  of  which,  as  we  have  seen,  the 
feeling  about  right  is  an  expression?  That  indeed, 
is  what  happens.  Association  with  this  feeling,  con- 
tinued, developes  in  us  a  finer  sensibility  with  regard 
to  the  invisible  realities,  until  by  stages  too  impal- 
pable to  analyse,  a  point  is  reached  when  "obstruc- 
tions melt  away,  the  light  streams  in,  and  the  servants 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  147 

of  conscience  know  themselves  to  be  in  touch  with 
the  unseen  and  the  divine,"  because  the  unseen  and 
the  divine  have  been  lived  and  experienced.  Through 
such  experiential  knowledge  there  arises  in  us  a  new 
attitude  of  mind  with  regard  to  life  and  death. 

We  begin  to  understand  with  ever  growing  clear- 
ness that  "we  ourselves  are  more  than  earth  and 
clay,"  that  in  us,  there  is  actually,  and  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  a  superhuman  element.  We  find  ourselves  pos- 
sessed, we  know  not  how,  except  that  it  has  come 
through  accord  with  righteousness,  of  that  immediate 
assurance  of  our  kinship  with  the  eternal,  which 
experience  alone  can  give.  "  Such  a  life  slowly  gathers 
and  builds  up  a  faith,  a  hope,  a  vision,  which  disarms 
the  calamity  of  death,  and  creates  an  impetuous  expec- 
tancy of  the  life  beyond." 

Why  then,  when  the  means  of  enlightenment  are 
so  close  at  hand,  does  any  one  remain  in  doubt? 
There  are  various  answers.  For  example,  it  is 
possible  to  deceive  ourselves,  and  to  imagine  we  live 
in  the  way  that  will  bring  enlightenment,  when  in 
reality  we  do  nothing  of  the  kind.  We  may  lead  a 
good  life,  be  useful  members  of  society,  put  ourselves 
to  inconvenience,  make  sacrifices  for  other  people, 
and  yet  be  very  far  indeed  from  obedience  to  the 
feeling  about  right. 

It  is,  as  a  rule,  both  pleasant  and  profitable  to  be 
good.  Prudence  and  sagacity,  and  worldly  wisdom, 
alike  impel  toward  an  honest  existence.  Prompted 
by  these  motives  alone,  it  is  quite  possible  to  go 
through  life  respected,  esteemed,  and  honored,  and 
to  be  at  the  same  time  further  from  the  unseen  world 
than  the  publican  and  the  harlot. 

Motives  of  pleasure,  convenience,  prudence,  saga- 
city, are  excellent.  Most  desirable  is  it  that  we  should 


148  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

be  influenced  by  these  impulses,  but  we  shall  be  dis- 
appointed if  we  imagine  thay  will  lead  to  a  knowledge 
of  the  superhuman. 

Their  tendency  is  in  the  opposite  direction.  They 
are  practical  motives.  That  is  to  say,  they  deal  with 
the  here  and  now,  with  present  problems.  They  are 
concerned  only  with  making  existence  more  com- 
fortable, more  prosperous.  We  cannot  expect  to 
find  in  them  information  about  that  with  which  they 
have  nothing  to  do. 

Again,  obedience  to  the  feeling  about  right  is  a 
hard  path  to  follow,  not  only  because  we  are  apt  to 
imagine  we  are  following  it  when  we  are  in  fact  pur- 
suing a  quite  different  road,  but  because  in  order  to 
follow  it  we  have  sometimes  to  give  up  many  things 
the  heart  desires.  He  who  fulfils  his  moral  obliga- 
tions, may  find  himself  compelled  to  ignore  prudence, 
do  without  prosperity,  take  poverty  for  his  bride, 
and  be  willing  to  surrender,  if  need  be,  even  peace 
and  happiness.  He  will  have  to  act  from  principle 
instead  of  from  expediency,  and  regardless  of  the 
consequences  to  himself,  to  make  for  that  only  which 
is  right.  On  every  occasion  he  must  ask,  not  is  it  good 
business,  is  it  profitable,  but  is  it  just  and  merciful? 
Should  profit  and  prosperity  conflict  with  justice  and 
mercy,  he  must  give  up  profit  and  prosperity.  He 
must  cease  to  be,  in  short,  what  the  world  calls  a 
practical  man.  He  will  be  compelled  to  abandon  half 
the  methods  of  making  money  regarded  by  the  com- 
mercial world  as  legitimate.  He  will  be  obliged  to 
take  the  chance  of  business  collapse  and  failure.  He 
who  is  loyal  to  right  principles  may  sometimes  have 
to  choose  a  path  more  perilous  still,  a  path  that 
leads  not  only  to  suffering  but  to  death.  A  difficult 
road  to  pursue.  Nevertheless,  those  who  have  forti- 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL  149 

tude  enough  and  persistence  enough  steadfastly  to 
walk  therein,  those  who  in  this  moral  strife,  again 
and  yet  again,  obey  the  still  small  voice,  though  they 
lose  outward  peace,  and  comfort,  and  riches,  and 
worldly  consideration,  gain  a  new  insight  into  the 
nature  of  things,  an  insight  which  reveals  in  close 
association  with  our  own  mortal  existence,  an  exist- 
ence more  than  mortal. 

"The  true  knowledge,"  said  Oliver  Cromwell,  "is 
not  literal  nor  speculative,  but  inward,  transforming 
the  mind."  Those  who  tread  the  narrow  way  come 
to  understand,  with  an  inward  and  transforming 
knowledge,  with  a  knowledge  possessing  the  con- 
vincing quality  of  a  genuine  experience,  that, 

"Death  is  not 

So  much  even  as  the  lifting  of  a  latch. 
Only  a  step  into  the  open  air 
Out  of  a  tent  already  luminous 
With  light  that  shone  through  its  transparent 
walls." 

Our  conclusion  is,  then,  that  while  reason  and 
observation  indicate  the  extreme  likelihood  of  soul 
survival,  assurance  is  to  be  sought  through  the 
mystical  mood.  This  mystical  mood  results  from  the 
awakening  of  certain  finer  sensibilities,  of  which 
probably  all  of  us  have  a  share. 

Under  ordinary  circumstances  these  sensibilities 
are  dormant,  but  they  can  be  quickened  into  activity, 
by  bringing  to  bear  the  proper  influences.  What  the 
proper  influences  are,  depends  largely  on  tempera- 
ment. Some  seem  to  require  a  prolonged  and  sys- 
tematic, and  it  may  be  a  painful  discipline,  perhaps 
that  severest  of  all  forms  of  discipline,  the  loss  of 
one  they  have  truly  loved.  For  others,  "a  wise 


150  SOURCES  OF  FAITH  AND  HOPE 

passiveness"  suffices.  For  many  music  is  the  fitting 
agency,  and  the  churches  have  always  taught  that 
whosoever  will,  may  attain  the  mystical  mood  of 
awakened  sensibility,  and  so  win  the  desired  cer- 
titude, through  prayer.  The  mood  of  insight  may 
be  achieved  also  by  association,  steadfast  and  con- 
tinued association  with  that  superhuman  element 
which,  as  we  have  endeavored  to  show,  is,  to  some 
extent  at  least,  present  in  every  one. 

Looking  back  at  the  road  we  have  travelled,  it  will 
be  seen  that  we  have  been  dealing,  not  with  tradition 
from  the  distant  past,  nor  with  fantastic  theories, 
nor  with  strange  and  oriental  cults,  but  with  the 
sober  facts  of  our  own  human  nature,  with  the 
realities  of  our  own  souls.  In  these  realities  we  have 
found  a  guide  to  the  conduct  of  life,  and  the  ground 
and  reason  for  a  great  hope. 


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